soft shell crab; spring garlic cucumber sauté, mint; tomato

It was the eve of Barry’s birthday, so it had to be special!

I had great luck in the Greenmarket that afternoon, and because the fish seller had a huge supply, they were marked down in price.  The reader doesn’t have to be told how I transitioned 4 very alive local blue crabs (callinectes sapidus) onto our 2 plates that evening. For those who really are interested, there’s this charming video of a native Marylander describing the process.

We love soft shell crab, but this was only the second time in decades I’d prepared them at home.

  • four live 3-ounce eastern Long Island soft shell crabs from Paul’s Pura Vida Seafood stand at the Union Square Greenmarket, cleaned as described in the video link already mentioned above, but without removing the ‘mustard’, or digestive system (it tastes wonderful!), rinsed in running water and dried very thoroughly (so they don’t ‘steam’, but sauté, and so encouraging crispness (I had decided not to use a batter of any kind), brought to room temperature, sautéed on both sides (bottom first) over a medium-high flame in a quarter inch of olive oil inside a 13-inch seasoned enameled cast iron pan (for about 3, maybe 4 minutes total), seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper as they were turned, removed from the pan and arranged on the 2 plates, sprinkled with a generous amount of freshly-chopped foraged local (Herkimer County) spruce tips from Violet Hill Farm in the Greenmarket and some freshly ground black pepper, drizzled with juice from an organic lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market
  • one larger yellow and 2 smaller green Japanese cucumbers from Eckerton Hill Farm, unpeeled, sliced 2 cm thick [it seems easier to describe something in centimeters rather than inches when a metric measure better fits the dimension I’m describing], sautéed inside a large antique copper pot over a medium-high flame, turning a couple of times, until the cucumbers had begun to carbonize, sprinkling the cucumbers with sea salt in the meantime, 3 or 4 cloves of sliced spring garlic from Lani’s Farm and a pinch of crushed dried habanada pepper stirred in near the end, the vegetable tossed with some torn mild fuzzy spearmint from from Space on Ryder Farm [formerly known as Ryder Farm] arranged on the plates, more mint scattered on top, drizzled with a little olive oil
  • a mix of tomatoes, 6 small cherry (‘The best Cherry Tomatoes’) from Stokes Farm, the remainder larger, Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Flatiron Eataly, all halved, warmed inside a small copper skillet (I was distracted and went too far this time, although they tasted as good as ever), seasoned with salt and pepper, scattered with only a pinch of dried Sicilian wild fennel pollen
  • near the end of the meal, tin order to enjoy the various juices remaining on the plates, a couple thin slices of ‘Seedy Grains’ (wheat, spelt, rye, and barley organic bread flours; buckwheat; oats; flax sesame, sunflower, and pumpkin seeds; water, and salt) from the Philadelphia bakery, Lost Bread Co., via the Union Square Greenmarket
  • the wine was a super California (Napa) rosé, Matt Parish Napa Rose of Pinot Noir 2018, from Naked Wines
  • the music was the Zeitgeist album, ‘In Bone-Colored Light’

raie meunière with mushrooms, spruce tips; spinach, garlic

I’m a fan.

Fish. At this point, I think I can say that for me the only remaining problematic thing about cooking fish may be the part when you have to turn it over inside a pan. I did pretty well this time, in spite of the size of the skate wings, thanks to the availability of a perfectly suitable large pan, and the small collection of various kinds of spatulas I’ve been assembling.

But the exciting bits about this meal, aside from the very fresh skate (‘raie‘ in French, ‘ray’ in British English), were the chestnut mushrooms, and the extremely rare appearance (here, or almost anywhere for that matter) of the spruce tips I’d found at the Greenmarket a few days before. They worked together beautifully, even though the fungi, in spite of their appearance, were cultivated, and not wild.

The recipe that inspired my own efforts Wednesday night was this one by Jacques Pepin.

  • two skate wings (aka raie or ray), or exactly one pound altogether, from American Seafood Company, seasoned with salt and pepper, dredged in whole wheat flour from The Blew family of Oak Grove Plantation in Pittstown, N.J., added to a heavy round 13″ antique French copper pan, and sautéed in a little olive oil and butter (2 tablespoons combined) over a medium-high flame for less than 4 minutes on one side, turned and cooked for the same amount of time on the other, or just until the skate was cooked through, arranged on the plates and 4 ounces of small ‘chestnut mushrooms’ from from Gail’s Farm in Vineland, Herkimer County, New Jersey, most not sliced at all, other than separating the stems from the tops, added to the drippings in the pan and cooked for just  about a minute (they should still be firm), while adding a little butter and oil, since the pan was pretty dry, seasoned with salt and pepper and scattered on the top or edges of the skate, then, after half a tablespoon of organic Whole Food Market lemon had been squeezed over all, and a tablespoon or so of butter that had been melted in a small antique iron porringer until foamy and brown poured on top, the dish garnished with a generous amount of chopped fresh spruce tops that had been foraged by Violet Hill Farm
  • one bag of spinach from Tamarack Hollow Farm, washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, trying not reduce it too far) inside a large, heavy, antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which 3 spring garlic cloves from Lani’s Farm had first been allowed to soften, seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, finished on the plates with a little more olive oil
  • the was was a French (Burgundy/Chablis) white, Jean-Marc Brocard – Chablis Domaine Sainte Claire 2018, from 67Wine
  • the music was an album including 8 decades of music by women composers, ‘Zeitgeist: If Tigers Were Clouds’

marinated goat ribs; roasted potatoes; asparagus, ramps

‘ribs’

I grew up in the upper Midwest, where I’m pretty sure the practice of cooking outdoors on a real fire was called a cookout, at least it was way back then. A barbeque, or more often, bar-b-q, was something cowboys had, or at least something that happened in the Southwest. To me it was certainly associated with some not random, but very competitive spicy smokey tomato sauce. Barbecued ribs were the classic form. The entire concept was eventually repackaged as serious casual restaurant food for rugged guys with rugged tastes, guys who probably didn’t know how cook it themselves, or at least didn’t have the time or equipment to do it themselves. These guys didn’t mind messy finger food. I always have, so barbeque has never been much of a thing for me.

Last night we had a cookout at home, although, as a New York apartment cookout, it was actually a cook-in.

There was also no spicy, smokey tomato sauce, and there was no fire, but there really were ribs. They were goat ribs however, which must certainly disqualify the experience as anything associated with the American male appetite.

Except that they were delicious.

In the end, I even abandoned my knife and fork, which I almost never do.

They also didn’t take hours, which meant they didn’t heat up the apartment for hours. Every recipe I saw on line for goat ribs (or lamb, which can be treated in almost exactly the same way) described some form of extended cooking involving the oven, and then I came across this simple suggestion on a New Zealand site for cooking lamb ribs, once they had been marinated:

Preheat a barbecue grill or frying pan to a medium-high heat. Add the ribs and cook until browned and crunchy on all sides – around 15-20 minutes. If you have single ribs they will only take about 10-15 minutes.

I didn’t use its marinade suggestion found there, but the thought that long, slow cooking wasn’t an imperative was a breakthrough. Still, I didn’t fully trust its [only 10-20 minutes!] timing indication, so I started the ribs just before I would be putting the potatoes or asparagus into the oven, knowing that I could keep the 2 vegetables or the ribs warm while finishing the other. Everything worked out fine.

  • just over one pound of goat riblets, separated, from Lynnhaven Dairy Goat Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, rolled in a marinade which included a little chopped spring garlic from Lani’s Farm, one large chopped ramp bulb from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, a couple tablespoons of Whole Foods house Portuguese olive oil, flowering thyme from Norwich Meadows Farm, the zest from more than half of an organic Whole Foods lemon, a little lemon juice, a few tablespoons of Corvo Sicilian white wine, one tablespoon of dried Sicilian oregano, sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, the chops then set aside covered, on the counter for about one hour, drained, seasoned, and placed inside a large heavy enameled cast iron skillet above a medium high flame, seared on all sides and cooked, turning occasionally, for about 25-30 minutes (at this point I wasn’t watching the clock, but the vegetables) during which time they were checked for doneness – and tenderness – and at some moment the heat was turned down while waiting for the vegetables to finish cooking
  • six medium ‘red thumb’ potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, halved, tossed with a little olive oil , salt, black pepper, a pinch of hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch Bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, and another pinch of home dried habanada pepper, originally purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm, spread across the surface of a medium Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan and roasted at 400-425º for a little longer than 20 minutes
  • about 11 ounces of thin asparagus spears from Hoeffner Farms and the white sections (the green leaves removed) of 8 or more ramps from mountain Sweet Berry Farm, a handful of thyme branches from Stokes Farm, a little more than a tablespoon of olive oil, a little sea salt, and a bit of freshly-ground black pepper, all rolled along the surface of a large Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic pan, roasted for about 20 to 25 minutes at 400-425º, and near the end of that time, some of the reserved green ramp leaves, roughly-sliced, thrown on top of the asparagus, pushed around with a wooden spatula, the vegetables removed, more thinly sliced ramp leaves laid on top, everything drizzled with a bit of lemon juice
  • the wine was a wonderful Portuguese (Lisbon/Estremadura) red, Montaria Reserva Portugal 2016, from Naked Wines (they’re expanding beyond the U.S.)
  • the music was Roman Haubenstock-Ramati’s album, ‘Konstellationen’

roasted monkfish, potatoes, bay, olives; fava greens, mint

It’s one of our favorite dishes. Last night I tweeted that it was the definition of savory. I think the pictures show us why. The one below is of the potatoes just before they went into the oven, preceding the black olives and the monkfish by 20 minutes or so.

  • twelve or 14 ounces of scrubbed, dried, and thinly sliced ‘red thumb’ potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, arranged, overlapping, on the bottom of a glazed earthenware oven pan, covered with 3 tablespoons, or slightly more, of a Chelsea Whole Foods house Portuguese olive oil, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of an Eckerton Hill Farm crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper, the same amount of a dried habanada pepper, and 9 whole Italian bay leaves from Buon Italia scattered on top, and then more oil (another 2 tablespoons or so) poured over everything, the pan placed inside a 400º oven for about 20 or 25 minutes, or until the potatoes had begun to brown on the edges, then almost two thirds of a cup of mostly pitted Sicilian black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia and a few kalamata olives from Whole Foods [fewer olives would definitely not make the flavors of the entrée suffer, but this amount is luscious] were scattered about them, and one halved 15-ounce monkfish tail from P.E. & D.D. Seafood was placed on top of everything, the fish sprinkled with salt and pepper, and the pan returned to the oven for another 15 minutes or so more (the ‘tails’ were pretty thick), or until the monkfish was tender but not overcooked (I used an instant thermometer and 140º as the final say), arranged on the plates garnished with a little micro purple mustard from Norwich Meadows Farm

  • a generous amount of fava bean greens, stems and leaves, from Keith’s Farm, washed in several changes of cold water, drained, gradually stirred into a large, heavy, antique copper pot in a tablespoon or more of olive oil already heated above a medium flame where a bit of spring garlic had been allowed to soften, and once the greens had wilted, a generous amount of roughly-chopped spearmint from Phillips Farms was tossed in, followed by a bit of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
  • the wine was a French (Languedoc-Roussillon) white, Vin Blanc, La Patience 2017, from Astor Wines
  • the music was the Peter Eötvös album, ‘Concertos’ 

swordfish, roasted tomatoes, kale, cake/ice cream/rhubarb

The meal was designed for guests: We were entertaining two new friends visiting from Berlin, so new that we had never met them before (they were good friends of good friends), and I hoped to not be distracted from conversation.

We enjoyed snacks (breadsticks and taralli from Buon Italia) and a sparkling wine before the main course.

The main course was easy to prepare, and for me, literally notably so, because I was interacting with guests all along.

The sweet roasted tomatoes could be prepared before anyone arrived.

  • two beautiful 15-ounce swordfish steaks purchased from Wade at his family’s P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, each halved, then marinated for about 45 minutes, turning once, in a mixture of a few tablespoons of olive oil, more than 2 teaspoons of winter savory from Keith’s Farm , a bit of peperoncino Calabresi secchia from Buon Italia, a small piece of a home-dried habanada pepper, plus the chopped white sections of 2 or 3 spring ‘Magic garlic’ from Windfall Farms, after which the swordfish was drained, both sides covered with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until not quite fully cooked to the center, removed from the pan and arranged on 4 plates, sprinkled with a little local Long Island sea salt, also from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, some of the chopped green section of the scallions, drizzled with a bit of juice from a Chelsea Whole Foods Market organic lemon, finished with a few drops of olive oil poured over the top, garnished with micro purple mustard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm

  • a few dozen of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, each punctured at least once, mixed with 2 tablespoons of dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, 3 tablespoons of Whole Foods house Portuguese olive oil, and and a couple fresh garlic bulbs from Lani’s Farm, slow-roasted at 325-350º inside a vintage rolled edge sheet steel baking pan lined in parchment paper fro about 35 minutes, removed and allowed to rest until served at room temperature

  • more than a single bunch of purple Russian kale from Eckerton Hill Farm, washed, drained, wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a tablespoon or so of olive oil in which several chopped spring garlic bulbs had first been allowed to soften, the greens seasoned with salt and black pepper, arranged on the plates where a little more olive oil was drizzled on top
  • the wines with this course – and a little beyond – were an Italian (Sicily) white, Caruso & Minini – Inzolia Terre Di Guimara 2017, from 67Wine, and another Sicilian white, Corvo Bianco 2017, this one from Philippe Wines

There was a dessert.

  • halved slices of cardamon pound cake from Bread Alone, with dollops of La Loos goat milk ice cream, ‘Snowflake vanilla’, from Whole Foods, drizzled with a luscious rhubarb-cardamon seed-star anise compote made with tiny (1/3 to 1/2-inch thick) early (late winter?) rhubarb stems from Hoeffner Farms
  • the wine was Blandy’s 5 year old Bual Madeira

 

  • the music throughout the meal was conversation (and birdsong)

bacon/eggs, thyme/dandelion, L’ekama, lettuce/tomato

It was a good as it looks.

  • otherwise, what it was, was 6 very fresh eggs from pastured chickens and 4 slices of bacon from pastured pigs, all from Millport Dairy Farm, the fried eggs seasoned with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, freshly ground black pepper, a couple pinches of a dry seasoning called L’ekama (it’s wonderful, and my searches suggest it could be some combination of green chilis, coriander, paprika, cumin, and garlic) from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk, some leaves and flowers from a few stems of spring thyme from Norwich Meadows Farm, garnished with micro red ribbed dandelion from Windfall Farms, 6 of ‘The Best Cherry Tomatoes’ from Stokes Farm, heated in a little olive oil and seasoned with salt and pepper, arranged on top of a few leaves of a purple-green Romaine type lettuce, from Quarton Farm that were dressed with a little good olive oil (Badia a Coltibuono, Monti del Chianti from Chelsea Whole Foods Market), local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, black pepper, and a few drops of Columela Rioja 30 Year Reserva sherry vinegar, and thin slices, not toasted, of Twelve Grain & Seed bread from Bread Alone
  • the music was the album, ‘Morning Ragas, Vol. 2’, with Pandit Jasraj, Appa Jalgaonkar and Kedar Pandit   

a bachelor/midnight/10-minute dinner, post-theater

This is sort of an American bachelor’s dinner, or midnight pasta, and with a dash of Iberia instead of Italia. Without the need to wait for water to boil, it’s even faster than the classic Italian modes.

Another thing in its favor is that it’s open-ended; it welcomes improvisation, probably even more the pasta equivalents (if there’s time and some supples to let the imagination run).

The basic formula, from a list of 101 meals that could be prepared in 10 minutes or less, later edited up to 111, created by Mark Bittman many years ago:

40 Put a large can of chickpeas and their liquid in a medium saucepan. Add some sherry, along with olive oil, plenty of minced garlic, smoked pimentón and chopped Spanish chorizo. Heat through.  

I’ve put this simple dish on the table many times, and I blogged about it once, 4 years ago, when I said, “We’ve enjoyed it with leftover wilted kale, collards, or other greens, but I can imagine any number of other cooked vegetables working as enhancements, giving them a chance to leave the refrigerator and shine a second time.”

Last Saturday, returning home from a preview of a new production of Christopher Shinn’s ‘Dying CIty’ at 2nd Stage Theater [this quiet, transfixing tale of grief and violence” – Ben Brantley writing in 2017], not wanting to do anything the least bit complicated that night, after a long absence I returned once again to Bittman’s simple chickpea/chorizo formula.  This time, while I used 3 cloves of hard garlic, in spite of the fact that they’re not now locally in season, I did add some chopped spring garlic stems at the end, and a miscellany of herbs I had on hand that, conveniently, had already been chopped.

 

[the image of the composer is from his own website, Daniel Wohl]

smoked fish pâté; mackerel, tomato salsa; new potatoes

There were two courses, and it was a two fish meal, maybe more than two.

The first course might have included more than one species of white fish..

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

  • some watercress from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, dressed with Badia a Coltibuono, Monti del Chianti olive oil from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, juice from a Chelsea Whole Foods Market organic lemon, sea salt, and freshly ground black pepper

..but the second clearly featured a single fish, Spanish mackerel.

  • fourteen ounces of Spanish mackerel (2 long fillets) from Pura Vida Seafood, washed, dried, brushed lightly with olive oil and seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled over high heat for 7 or 8 minutes, the skin side down first, turned over half way through, removed and arranged on the plates with a salsa consisting of 8 ounces or so of delicious, perfectly ripe cherry tomatoes from Stokes Farm, “The Best Cherry Tomatoes” (they really are, and almost as good when they’ve been grown in the greenhouse as they well be in the summer), that were halved, tossed with a tablespoon of Whole Food Market’s Portuguese house olive oil, a little more than a teaspoon of Sicilian salted capers (first well rinsed and drained), half a tablespoon of lemon juice, salt, black pepper, and some chopped fresh oregano from Phillips Farms, garnished on the plates with a little more oregano

  • sixteen ounces of delicious ‘new potatoes’ [immature potatoes, probably ‘red thumb’ in this case, harvested by pulling out the young tubers by hand, leaving the plant itself in place] from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still in the still-warm vintage medium size Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, rolled around inside the pot in a little more than a tablespoon or so of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, sprinkled with salt and pepper, garnished with micro red ribbed dandelion from Windfall Farms
  • a small handful of tiny first-of-the-season purple snow peas from Norwich Meadows Farm, sautéed inside a small blue Pyrex Flameware skillet in a little olive oil, sprinkled with a little lemon zest, tossed with spearmint from Phillips Farms and seasoned with salt and pepper

 

orecchiette, guanciale, felce, porri selvatici, parmigiano

There was a time when I used guanciale much more often than I do now, and sure enough, there it was when I looked on my own blog to see what I’d done in the past with fiddleheads in pasta.

That post, and that meal, was from 3 years back. Today I’d say that cured pork cheek really isn’t necessary when you have other assertive flavors in the mix.

  • nine ounces of an artisanal orecchiette, made in Calabria by Pasta Forte, cooked al dente, tossed with a sauce produced by sautéing 2 ounces of chopped guanciale from Buon Italia in a large antique copper pot until slightly brown on the edges – and slightly crispy – before they were joined by 3 chopped ramp bulbs from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm which were sautéed until softened before a half pound or so of fiddlehead ferns [riccioli di felce, if they were eaten in Italy] from Tamarack Hollow Farm that had been blanched (one minute) were stirred in, along with a pinch or so of dried habanada pepper, ending by tossing in the thinly sliced green leaves of the ramps, the sauce seasoned with sea salt and freshly ground black pepper before it was combined with the pasta. placed in 2 shallow bowls, sprinkled with shaved 24-month-aged Parmesan cheese from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, a bit of Whole Food house Portuguese olive oil drizzled around the edges
  • the wine was a Spanish (Castile-La Mancha) white, Pago Del Vicario – Blanco De Tempranillo 2018, from 67Wine
  • the music was the album, ‘Alberto Posadas: Poetics of the Gaze’

marinated dolphin; potato, garlic mustard; herbed tomato

They were the last 2 dolphin fillets at the fisherman’s stand yesterday, and just the right size for the two of us. I would go home with them of course, not just because they’re so scarce, on that day, sure, but in the local market generally, but because we love this fish.

Some people might say all fish tastes pretty much the same, that the only real difference is in its preparation. This could just as well be said of red meat, but I’d argue that both opinions depend on a very narrow idea of what constitutes seafood or meat, when compared to the range of what is available in this area alone.

The taste and the texture of Dolphin are both pretty much unique. I can’t describe its sweet mild flavor in words, but  it’s medium color, richness, and oiliness puts it somewhere between the extremes of dark, rich oily fish and dry, lean white fish; Barry and I enjoy virtually every kind of seafood, and because of the Union Square Greenmarket, we have access to the huge variety available in these waters alone.

One of the advantages of understanding the types of seafood is the ability to substitute species when deciding how to prepare a meal. One of the advantages of cooking at home frequently is the ability to substitute ingredients when you learn at the last minute that your fresh herb or seasoning vegetable has withered, or that you’ve either misplaced or haven’t replaced that spice you were going to use.

I’ve prepared several different kinds of fish in the same way I did these fillets last night, and I’ve tried several different preparations in the past for dolphin themselves. I chose this one for its simplicity, and for the fact that it wouldn’t heat up the kitchen with the oven on a humid evening. Then I realized that I didn’t have the herb I was hoping to use, but I could quickly substitute another (in fact I think the oregano worked better than the savory that I thought I had bought on Wednesday).

  • two 9-ounce dolphin fillets, with skin, from American Seafood Company, dry-marinated for 45 minutes or so  with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of chopped fresh oregano from Phillips Farms, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy oval vintage copper fish pan for about 3 minutes, skin side up, then turned over and the skin side seared for another 3 minutes, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with aluminum foil for a minute or two, after which it was removed, and some thin-ish slices of spring ‘Magi garlic’ from Windfall Farms and a bit of crushed dried habanada pepper were introduced and very briefly heated with the fish, which was then removed from the pan, along with the allium and the habanada, and arranged on the plates, the now richly-savory pan juices poured over the top of the fish

  • thirteen ounces or so of some very small, very sweet ‘red thumb’ potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, 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 little olive oil added, seasoned with salt and black pepper, mixed with some garlic mustard leaves from Norwich Meadows Farm, arranged on the plates and sprinkled with more garlic mustard, including some flowers

  • one small basket of ripe Sun Gold tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm, rinsed, dried, each pricked at least once with a small kitchen prong, rolled around in a little olive oil inside a small skillet until they had begun to soften, seasoned with salt, black pepper, and a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market), arranged on the plates and tossed with a small amount of chopped fennel fronds, still very fresh tasting, from a meal more than a week earlier
  • the wine was a Portuguese (Beiras) white, Filipa Pato – FP Branco 2018, from 67Wine
  • the music was the awesome Nonesuch After Mozart Digital MP3 Album, released as a part of the celebrations of the eponymous composer’s 250th birthday anniversary, with performances by Gidon Kremer and the Kremerata Baltica, with some of Mozart’s more playful works, plus some experimental pieces by other composers