This time at Sunday breakfast the bread was something of a star. As much as I like bread of any kind, with so much else going on on these hearty midday plates (serving as both breakfast and lunch), the bread is usually in a supporting role at best.

The loaf of Orwashers ‘Moroccan olive bread’ (rustic wheat, white flours; black, green, and Kalamata olives, and ‘Moroccan spices”) may be a new product for the bakery. Because of the olives, thinking that they might limit its general usefulness, I might not have made it my first choice at the 23rd Street greenmarket that morning, but there had been something of a run on the rest of their stock that day.

In the end, it was so good that when we sliced into it the next day, we decided not to toast it.

• besides the bread, there were 3 rashers of thick bacon and 6 fresh eggs from Millport Dairy Farm; a little sliced young red onion from Berried Treasures Farm and a bit of fresh habanada pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, both softened inside the pan before the eggs were broken into it; Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a dry seasoning called L’ekama from Ron & Leetal Arazi’s New York Shuk, and fresh oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm, all 4 scattered on top of the eggs; 3 differently-colored small heirloom tomatoes from Berried Treasures Farm topped with fresh summer savory from Stokes Farm; and a garnish of a bit of red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the music was the album, ‘Messiaen: Les corps glorieux & Other Works for Organ’, with Kevin Bowyer playing the organ of the Glasgow University Chapel

The swordfish, I understand, is a terrific game fish, but my personal experience with its greatness has been limited to the kitchen and dining table.

Although I’ve heard some reports that it may not be for everyone, I think xiphias gladius is one of the best tasting fish anywhere, and we’re very lucky that this migratory giant regularly visits our own waters. It’s also one of the easiest seafood to prepare. Aside from a modest responsibility of ensuring that there be at least one sympathetic herb on hand, and one or more responsible seasonings, it’s mostly about knowing when to stop cooking, rather than how.

• one 16-ounce swordfish steak from American Seafood Company picked up that afternoon at Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market on 23rd Street, halved, marinated on an ironstone platter for more than half an hour, turning once, in a mixture of olive oil, a tablespoon of fresh oregano (mostly buds) from Norwich Meadows Farm, a small amount of crushed dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, a bit of fresh habanada pepper from Oak Grove Plantation, and a chopped section of a stem of Japanese scallion from Berried Treasures Farm, drained well and the steaks covered on both sides with a coating of homemade dried breadcrumbs, pan-grilled over medium-high heat for 3 or 4 minutes on each side, or until just barely fully cooked all of the way through (think of the texture of a fresh good cheesecake), removed from the pan and arranged on the plates, sprinkled with a little Maldon sea salt, a bit of juice from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed on top, and garnished with red micro mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• three quarters of a pound of some amazing sweet, fresh ‘White potatoes’ from Jersey Farm Produce Inc., boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while inside the large, still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware glass pot in which they had cooked, a tablespoon or so of olive oil added, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, tossed with torn fresh sage from Echo Creek Farm, also in the 23rd Street market
• five different kinds and colors of baby eggplant, collected over several visits to Norwich Meadows Farm in the Unions Square Greenmarket (hence no photograph), each cut into 4 slices, mixed with a little olive oil, 6 or so Kalamata olives from Whole Foods Market, pitted, finely-chopped garlic from Norwich Meadows Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, pan-grilled over a brisk flame, turning once, sprinkled with torn spearmint leaves from Keith’s Farm, arranged on the plates and finished with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Italian (Sicily) white, Liotro Inzolia 2016 (100% Inzolia grapes), from Garnet Wines
• the music was the album, ‘C.P.E. Bach: Concertos & Symphonies’

It’s a super fish, its flavor and texture poised between the most interesting of the rich oily seafood and the most delicate of white-fleshed varieties. I love it.

• four fillets (a total of one pound) of skinned local dolphinfish from Pura Vida Seafood (aka orata, or dorade, or, in the US, commonly attached to the Hawaiian name, ‘Mahi-Mahi’, which I really try to resist), dry-marinated for 30 minutes or so with more than half a tablespoon of zest from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, half a tablespoon of chopped summer savory from Lani’s Farm, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, seared in a little olive oil inside a heavy oval vintage copper fish pan for about 2 minutes, skin side up, then turned over, the second side seared for another 2 minutes, the heat lowered and the pan loosely covered with aluminum foil for a minute or two, which was then removed, and some thin-ish slices of Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm and a bit of chopped fresh habanada pepper were introduced and very briefly sautéed along 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, and some bronze micro fennel scattered on its side

• a large Strauss of minutina from Norwich Meadows Farm, washed, drained, then barely wilted (it was cooked perfectly this time, and that’s actually very hard to do with this delicate thin green), in a bit of olive oil inside a large antique high-sided copper pot above a low-to-medium flame, seasoned with salt and pepper, finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil and a squeeze of lemon

• a small basket of white currant tomatoes from Alewife Farm, warmed inside a small vintage Corning  Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot, seasoned with salt and pepper, sprinkled with oregano from Norwich Meadows Farm (buds)
• the wine was a Portuguese (Biera) white, Quinta do Cardo White “Companhia das Quintas” 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was the album, ‘Kalevi Aho: Wind Quintets Nos. 1 & 2’, performed by the Philharmonisches Bläserquintett Berlin

I thought the pasta might end up being too easy, so I decided to add an anti.

• an uncured Salchichon, from a package of Colameco’s ‘Spanish Brand Deli Selection’, drizzled with a bit of a good Campania olive oil (Lamparelli O.R.O.), served with red dandelion greens dressed with the same oil, Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a squeeze of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market
• slices of a Grandaisy filone from the Grandaisy store in Tribeca

While the sauce with the spaghetti was pretty easy, the taste was pretty complex.

Thanks to some wonderful ingredients..

.., and a slow cooking process.

• the amounts of each ingredient can be adjusted without sacrificing the essence of this recipe, but I tossed approximately 4 cups of small and slightly larger whole Eckerton Hill Farm heirloom tomatoes in a mix of colors and sizes, together with almost 2 cups of shishito peppers from Alewife Farm; 5 or 6 unpeeled cloves fresh Keith’s Farm rocambole garlic; half a cup of a loosely packed mix of cut chives from S. & S.O. Farm, leaves from a Full Bloom Market Garden basil plant from Whole Foods, and marjoram buds from Norwich Meadows Farm; half a teaspoon of sea salt, a dash of black pepper, and a drizzle of olive oil, arranged everything on a large seasoned Pampered Chef oven pan, placing it on a 375º oven for almost 45 minutes, then mixed it inside a large antique high-sided copper pot with 10 ounces of ounces of cooked and drained Afeltra 100% grano italiano spaghettoni, produced in Gragnano, from Eataly Flatiron, stirring it over medium-high heat with some of the reserved pasta cooking water, until the liquid had emulsified, arranged inside low bowls, garnished with chopped very fresh rosemary from Lani’s Farm, finished by drizzling  olive oil around the edges
• the wine was an Italian (Sardinia) white, Sella & Mosca Vermentino di Sardegna La Cala 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the Brooklyn Rider album, ‘Spontaneous Symbols’

I couldn’t get to the Union Square Greenmarket on Wednesday because there were a lot of workmen coming and going in the apartment, so I did what I have done under similar circumstances if I want to keep it a seafood day: I picked up some wild salmon from our local merchant down the block. As I’ve lamented before, unfortunately this treat can no longer be found in our local waters, so, yes, my carbon footprint was a little embarrassing.

Once in a while Whole Foods Market signage will advertise their fillets as “fresh” (that is, not frozen), which is how the coho I bought yesterday was described. It came with the skin, of course, but I removed it before cooking, in order to create the optimum ‘canvas’ for the spicy crust promised by the now-familiar recipe I had decided to use.

• one 14-ounce piece of a fresh wild coho salmon fillet from Whole Foods Market, brought to room temperature, rinsed, the skin removed by the cook, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and, on what had been the flesh side, pressed with a mixture of freshly-ground or grated coriander seeds, cloves, cumin, and nutmeg, sautéed in a little olive oil over a medium-high flame inside a heavy oval enameled cast iron pan over medium-high heat, the spice-coated side down, for 2 minutes or so, then turned over and cooked for another minute or so, arranged on the plates [this time without a squeeze of lemon or the addition of olive oil at the end, to avoid ruining the crust, but instead a few drops of olive oil were added to the juices remaining in the pan after the fillets had been removed, scraped them around the surface with a wooded spatula, then poured what had accumulated onto the plates at one end of the salmon
• a garnish of bronze micro fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge at the side of the fish

• red dandelion from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed in a good Campania olive oil, Lamparelli O.R.O., Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a bit of juice form a Whole Foods Market organic lemon

• a large sturdy seasoned steel skillet with enough olive oil to cover the bottom placed above a high flame, then, just before the oil was ready to smoke, 13 ounces of some very sweet ‘Yummy’ peppers (that’s actually the varietal name) from Central Valley Farm, cut into halves, their few seeds and membranes removed, added (in 2 batches this time, with the cooked peppers gently reheated while the salmon was cooking), skin side down and not crowding, the peppers sprinkled with salt, the heat reduced some, and a heavy weight (a slightly-smaller foil-covered cast iron skillet) placed on top of them for 30 seconds or so, then removed and the peppers pushed around with bamboo tongs to see they were blistered more or less evenly, after which they were turned skin side up, a small chopped section of a red serrano pepper thrown in, and the weighted pan added again for another 30 seconds, or up to a minute, until the peppers were just about cooked, but not too limp, finished with the addition of some whole basil leaves from a Massachusetts Full Bloom Market Garden live plant (a Whole Foods Market purchase) and less than a tablespoon of balsamic vinegar, both stirred with the peppers
• the wine was an Oregon (Umpqua Valley) red, Scott Kelley Oregon Tempranillo 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Vivaldi’s 1718 opera, ‘Armida al campo d’Egitto’, Rinaldo Alessandrini directing the Concerto Italiano

Shishito peppers, and their Spanish cousins, pimientos de padron, have probably developed as many different reputations as they have individual consumers. There is no one typical experience with the fieriness of these unpredictable capsicums, but for those who make it through unharmed, or at least undaunted, there may be no more exciting appetizer.

And so it’s been for me, since Barry and I first encountered pimientos de padron,  in northern Spain 11 years ago, in the Basque coastal town of Getaria, in Gipuzkoa. While I don’t seek out real heat in any kind of pepper, life would be less interesting if I thought, when presented with a plate of shishito or padron, there wasn’t a chance I’d at least come across a suggestion of the kind of fire for which the Scoville scale was invented.

We’ve both found that the peppers sold by Alewife Farm this year fit that bill perfectly.

• just the right amount (I didn’t count or weigh them, but I still have some remaining in the crisper) of shishito pepers from Alewife Farm, washed, drained, dried, then sautéed over medium high heat in a broad cast iron pan for a few minutes, stirring, seasoned with Maldon salt, arranged on the plates, more of the salt added, to taste (the crystals can be seen in the image above)
• slices of a really seductive Pain d’Avignon multi-grain loaf from Foragers

I was going to write that the pasta was just a good artisanal squid ink strozzapreti with some tomatoes and herbs, but when I started composing the narrative for the recipe I realized that description was a little too simple.

• a handful of thinly-sliced celery stalk from Neversink Organic Farm sautéed in a little olive oil inside an antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot until softened, and one large fresh clove of spring garlic from Alex’s Tomato Farm (it had survived very well in the crisper of the refrigerator), and one Keith’s Farm clove of rocambole garlic, both squished, heated until they had begun to color, a bit of crushed dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia added, the mix stirred a little before half a pound of squid ink pasta (8 ounces of Severino squid ink strozzapreti from Whole Foods Market) that had just finished cooking, al dente, was added, the mix stirred again, now with some reserved pasta cooking water, over medium high flame until the liquids had emulsified, and a mix of small heirloom tomatoes from Eckerton Hill Farm, halved or sliced, several times, depending on their size, sprinkled with whole medium basil leaves from a Full Bloom Market Garden plant from Whole Foods Market, arranged inside 2 shallow bowls, finished with micro bronze fennel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a bit of olive oil poured around the edges.
• the wine was an Italian (Abruzzo) white, Cantina Zaccagnini Pinot Grigio 2016, from Philippe Wines
• the music was the last of the 6 CD’s from the set, ‘Haydn: The “Sturm & Drang” Symphonies’

Everything about it.

• a large rectangular enameled cast iron pan heated on top of the stove until hot, its cooking surface brushed with olive oil, and once the oil was quite hot, one pound of rinsed and carefully dried large squid from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, which had been selected from the bucket right in front of me by the fisherman himself, Phil Karlin, who had come in with the catch from eastern Long Island early that day, quickly arranged inside, immediately sprinkled with a heaping teaspoon of super-pungent dried Sicilian oregano from Buon Italia, most of one crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino, also from Buon Italia, and a section of orange/golden home-dried habanada pepper, picked up fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm last summer, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, followed by a douse of 3 tablespoons of juice from an organic Whole Foods lemon, and a splash of olive oil, the pan placed inside a pre-heated 400º oven and roasted for only 5 or so minutes, when their bodies had ballooned, removed, the squid distributed onto 2 plates and ladled with a bit of their cooking juices that had been collected in a glass sauce pitcher

• two sliced heirloom tomatoes, one red, one orange, from Tamarack Hollow Farm, slipped into a 13-inch seasoned cast iron skillet in which a little olive oil had first been heated, seasoned with salt and black pepper, sprinkled with some whole leaves of a Full Bloom Market Garden Connecticut Valley basil plant from Whole Foods, arranged on the plates and drizzled with just a bit of balsamic vinegar

• ten ounces or so of a mix of small green and purple okra from Lani’s Farm, sautéed over a high flame inside a very large seasoned cast iron pan in only a little olive oil [I’ve just learned that the cast iron causes even green pods to blacken, but I’ve never really noticed that, at least not as a problem], adding a good part of one crushed dried dark habanada pepper, half way through, seasoned with sea salt
• the wine was an Italian (Calabria) white, Scala, Ciro Bianco, 2017, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was Handel’s  1726 opera, ‘Alessandro’ [as in, ‘The Great’], in a production largely featuring Greek performers, George Petrou conducting the Armonia Atenea, with Max Emanuel Cencic, Karina Gauvin, Julia Lezhneva, and The City of Athens Choir

I was going to write that this wasn’t a German meal. The Sauerkraut came with turmeric, the Pellkartoffel were mixed with some celery and a bit of serrano pepper, and the Bratwurst was surprisingly spicy and almost sweet (even after all the time I’ve spent in Germany, my personal reference remains the uncooked Sheboygan white brat of my larger German-American family). Also, there was pickled okra!

Then I remembered that Germany is a big place, was once a way bigger place, and is surprisingly cosmopolitan today; also, its hoary cooking traditions are tweaked, both inside and outside its borders, sometimes.

• four links (one pound) of Møsefund‘s wonderful fully-cooked mangalitsa pork Bratwurst, purchased at the farm’s stand at the Saturday 23rd Street farmers market (they are normally set up there once a month), seared inside an enameled oval cast iron pan until blistered and heated through, served with a classic German mustard, Löwensenf Medium
• ten or 12 ounces of really delicious Pinto (or Pinto Gold) new potatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while inside the large, still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware glass pot in which they had cooked, a tablespoon or so of butter added, plus half a cup of thinly-sliced celery from Neversink Organic Farm and a bit of chopped fresh green serrano pepper from Central Valley Farm, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, garnished with chopped parsley from Keith’s Farm
• some Hawthorne Valley Turmeric Sauerkraut from a jar I had selected, I would have to say, uncharacteristically, at their stall in the Greenmarket a while back, probably overcome by the entire stand’s aura of healthiness (also the color of the cabbage)
• pickled okra from Millport Dairy Farm, also in the Union Square Greenmarket
• the last slices of a She Wolf Bakery miche that had been waiting in the bread box for just this occasion
• the wine was an Austrian (Lower Austria) red, Zweigelt, Erdenlied 2016, from Astor Wines
• the music was Nicola Porpora’s 1732 operatic masterpiece, ‘Germanico in Germania’

Can’t put my finger on who it makes me think of, but the lower part of that image reminds me of the work of a certain contemporary visual artist, or maybe just flotsam and seaweed on a white beach.

My idea when I’m painting a plate is primarily to use flavor and texture. I admit that appearances are always a consideration, but things are almost never deliberately conceived, and I only have seconds to arrange them, and just as little time to snap a picture.

• breakfast on this Sunday included thick bacon and fresh eggs from the free-range hens of a Pennsylvania Amish family’s Millport Dairy Farm, purchased at their Union Square Greenmarket stall; heirloom tomatoes and small aji dulce spicy-fragrant but very sweet peppers, both from Eckerton Hill Farm; scallions from Lani’s Farm; Morton & Bassett dried Aleppo pepper from Westside Market; Malden salt and freshly-ground black pepper; dill flowers from Willow Wisp Farm; chopped thyme from Lani’s Farm and summer savory from Stokes Farm; toasted slices from both an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone and a She Wolf Bakery miche  (the 12th century was exciting!)
• the music was the reissued Hilliard Ensemble album, ‘Perotin’  (because the 12th century was exciting!)

I thought this would be pretty much a pro forma meal when I started cooking, but sometimes familiar ingredients and a familiar recipe end up as something uncommonly good, and even spectacularly good.

• one nearly 20 ounce hake fillet from from American Seafood Company in the Saturday 23rd Street market, cut into 4 pieces to make an even division for two servings, dredged in local North Country Farms Stone Ground Whole Wheat Flour that had been seasoned with plenty of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, dipped into a shallow bowl in which one egg from Millport Dairy Farm had been beaten with a fork, sautéed (“over a brisk flame’, as Kyle Phillips‘ original recipe, for cod, ‘Merluzzo Dorato’, indicates), in more than 2 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ that had been scattered with almost a handful of small sage leaves (once fresh, and now almost completely dried) from Keith’s Farm, inside a heavy vintage oval copper skillet for about 7 minutes, turning the pieces half of the way through, then sprinkled with a little over 2 tablespoons of organic lemon juice from Whole Foods Market and any pan juices that remained, arranged on 2 plates, topped with segments of a tiny ear of corn I had found on the counter of Alex’s Tomato Farm in the 23rd Street greenmarket (it had become detached from a larger ear, and was all that remained of the farmers supply of corn when I spotted it) garnished with chopped parsley, also from Keith’s Farm, and served with lemon wedges

The only accompaniment to the hake was an improvisation, assembled from 4 vegetables I had on hand: 2 small fennel bulbs, 5 red scallions, 1 aji dulce pepper, and 4 very ripe heirloom tomatoes, and nothing else, really.

• two small fennel bulbs from Neversink Organic Farm, stems and fronds removed (the stems and most of the fronds kept for another use, some of the fronds set aside for a garnish), cut into wedges, and, with 3 roughly-chopped fresh spring shallots from Alewife Farm, sautéed inside a heavy high-sided tin-lined medium copper pot over medium high heat until the fennel had just begun to color, at which time one finely-chopped section of an aji dulce pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm was a stirred in and heated briefly to soften it, the heat lowered, the pan covered, the vegetables cooked for another 4 or 5 minutes, the cover removed, and 4 very different sizes and colors of heirloom tomatoes from Alewife farm, roughly chopped, added, the heat turned off and the mix stirred to soften them a bit, everything arranged on the plates and garnished with the chopped fronds of the fennel
• the wine was a Greek (Thessaly/Tyrnavos) white, Domaine Zafeirakis Paleomilos Malagousia 2016, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was the album, Ingram Marshall: Dark Waters, and then, while we lingered long at the table, a significant portion of a long (6-hours) piano piece, ‘Alvin Curran: Inner Cities’, performed by Daan Vandewalle