This is an absolutely terrific fish, and I did particularly well by it on Monday night, thanks to a wonderful recipe I’ve used often, with some variations, but whose origin I no longer remember.

• *one 20-ounce fillet of pollock from P.E.&D.D. Seafood, rinsed, dried, halved, and seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed skin side down inside a buttered an oval tin-lined copper gratin pan, spread with a mixture of softened unsalted Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ mixed with zest from most of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, a very little chopped Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm, slices of part of one Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, and part of a piece of a  crushed orange/gold home-dried Habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm (harvested fresh last fall), the fish baked for about 15-17 minutes at 350º, removed to 2 plates, the cooking juices poured over the top, and a teaspoon or so of Sicilian salted capers, which had first been rinsed, drained, dried and heated briefly inside a small antique enameled cast iron porringer in a bit of olive oil, scattered over the fillets, with that oil, the pollock finished with a garnish of micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• *Nicola potatoes from Tamarack Hollow Farm, boiled with a generous amount of salt until barely cooked through, drained, halved, dried while still inside the large still-warm vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, tossed with 2 tablespoons of rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’, sprinkled with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and then some chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm

• *several stalks of celery (noting here that this is in late January) from from Phillips Farms, their leaves removed and and the best reserved for another day, trimmed, tossed with olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground pepper, pan-grilled until slightly carbonized but still pretty crunchy, finished with lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge.
• the wine was a New Zealand (North Coast) white, Shebang, North Coast White ‘Cuvee IV’, NV, from Flatiron Wines & Spirits
• *the music was an absolutely fantastic album, in both conception and execution, ‘Time Present and Time Past’, Mahan Esfahani performing, with Concerto Köln, music by Johann Sebastian Bach, Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach, Francesco Geminiani, Henryk Górecki, Steve Reich, Alessandro Scarlatti, and, on digital tracks, G.F. Handel, works which were either composed for or transcribed for his preferred instrument, the harpsichord

I was introduced to this dish probably 30 years ago. I won’t repeat the story here, but I described it at length in this November, 2015 post.

It’s an absolutely delicious tomato sauce, although so simple that you feel like you’re not actually cooking, just watching the sauce cook itself, and the pasta is pretty special too. Like all cooking, and especially the most minimal dishes, the goodness depends as much on the quality of the ingredients as on the professionalism of the cook. I try really hard when assembling this one.

 

THE RECIPE

In an enameled cast iron pot or other non-reactive pan, large enough to hold the pasta after it’s been cooked, sauté 2 or 3 cloves in 4 to 5 tablespoons of olive oil, but only until the garlic is pungent.

Add one 28-ounce can of real San Marzano tomatoes (already-chopped or whole, and ideally without basil), crush the tomatoes with a wooden spoon if they are whole,  sauté uncovered at high heat for 5 minutes, stirring a few times to reduce the liquid (yes, the juices will spatter a bit; I use a black apron and check the surrounding environment after this step).

Reduce the heat to very low, so the sauce is barely bubbling, add sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper to taste, and simmer for a full 30 minutes.

Add a few whole leaves of fresh basil and continue simmering for 15 minutes more, again stirring occasionally.

Note: The sauce can be prepared a little ahead of time, to avoid any competition with the boiling pasta.

When the pasta has cooked, drain it and add it to the pan, or mix sauce and pasta in a warm bowl.

Serve, but do not add cheese.

 

• On Sunday I halved the recipe and used Setaro Paccheri from Buon Italia, cooked barely al dente, a point which is just about perfect for this perfect, very rich sugo. It was the very same pasta I’d first seen for the first time many  years ago in a storage room filled with imported foods inside the West Village hair salon run by Nic Soccodato, my barbiere Salernitano/sometime backroom Importatore di prodotti Salerno. I asked him what kind of sauce would accompany these large loops and he generously shared his wife’s recipe for a sauce his family enjoyed as a special treat – on Sundays! I started the sauce in a large enameled cast iron pot with 3 tablespoons of Whole Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil and 3 large cloves of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm (more garlic than I usually use), one 14 oz can of Afeltra Pomodoro S. Marzano dell’Agro Sarnese-Nocerino D.O.P. (which is from Nic’s patria) from Eataly, and because it was winter I used 3 whole basil leaves taken from a package of Gotham Greens Rooftop basil from Whole Foods that I had carefully stored frozen between sheets of waxed paper last year. And that was it.

 

There was an antipasto, one of the rewards of serving such a simple main course.

• slices of local salame Biellese sallumeria from Eataly, served with a bit of watercress, also from Eataly, both drizzled with a little Whole Foods Market in-house Portuguese olive oil
• slices of ’12 Grain & Seed bread’ from Bread Alone in the Union Square Greenmarket

 

• the wine throughout was an Italian (Campania) red, Ocone, Aglianico del Taburno ‘Apollo’ 2012, from Flatiron Wines & Spirits
• the music was Mozart’s 1769 opera, ‘La Finta Semplice’,  Peter Schreier conducting the Carl Philipp Emanuel Bach Chamber Orchestra

I was trying to find something novel about this fast breaker, so I was going to mention the chervil, or actually, micro chervil, but it seems this wasn’t the first time I had included it with eggs.

So there is no novelty, but the whole thing was delicious, because how can you go wrong with bacon and eggs, even if you add a few fussy things to the combination.

The eggs themselves weren’t a novelty, but they were incredibly delicious. I credit the Americauna chickens, and the Amish farmer(s) who got them to New York as fast as they could.

• on or near the plate above there were small blue-shell Americauna chicken eggs and thick bacon from Millport Dairy Farm, Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, most of the chopped green section of a Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, crushed dried orange/gold habanada pepper from Norwich Meadows Farm, Maldon salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a pinch of nearly-dried chopped winter savory from Stokes Farm, micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, toasts from both a loaf of ‘8 grain 3 seed’ bread from Rock Hill Bakery and a She Wolf Bakery sourdough bâtard, and rich Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’
• the music was the album, ‘In Excelsis Deo’, described as “Church music, court music and the historical memory of folk songs, 1702-1714”, including works by the Catalan composer Francesc Valls (1671-1747) and Messe à deux chœurs et deux orchestres by the French composer Henry Desmarest (1661-1741), plus “Music from the Time of the Wars between Spain and Catalonia”, all performances by La Capella Reial de Catalunya and Le Concerts des Nations, Jordi Savall conducting

I figured pork chops would be an excellent side for the sweet potatoes I had been looking forward to, but the chops from Flying Pigs Farm are always so good they weren’t going to be incidental to anything. Also, as excited as I was about the potatoes, I was equally enthusiastic about using myrtle on the pork for the first time.

As for those sweet potatoes, when I asked Keith (Keith Stewart, the vegetable sage) what cultivar they were, he told me that at this time of the year it was probably impossible to know which of the two they had planted, Covington or Beauregard, were in the bin that day, so my call would be as good as his. He assured me however that it was not that they had been up to any cultivar-ian miscegenation, (I asked), that it was only that they had been moving into each other’s fields somewhat indiscriminately.

I was going to add some watercress to the plate, for something green, but then I remembered that, from among the dozens of smaller Brussels sprouts I had roasted on Thursday, I had kept back 3 significantly larger ones, for just such a circumstance.

• two 8-ounce bone-in loin pork chops from Flying Pig Farm, thoroughly dried, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and sprinkled with some small leaves and crushed berries (5?) of dried Italian myrtle [It. Mirto], berries and leaves, from Buon Italia seared quickly on both sides inside a heavy enameled cast-iron pan, half of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon squeezed over the top, then left in the pan between the chops, placed in a 425º oven for about 14 minutes (flipped halfway through, after which the lemon was squeezed on top again and replaced in the pan between them), removed from the oven, arranged on the plates and garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, some of the really luscious pan juices spooned over the top, the remainder placed on the table inside a glass sauce boat
• three medium Brussels sprouts from John D. Madura Farms, washed, trimmed, dried, and halved, tossed with olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted in a 400º oven on a small unglazed Pampered Chef oven pan until they were browned and crisp on the outside, about 15 or 20 minutes
• less than one pound of small sweet potatoes (either Covington or Beauregard) from Keith’s Farm, unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, sliced into 3-quarter-inch pieces, tossed in a bowl with olive oil; sea salt; freshly-ground black pepper; 3 large unpeeled Rocambole garlic cloves, also from Keith’s  Farm; a tablespoon or so of small dried sage leaves which had originally come fresh from Stokes Farm; and a bit of crushed dark dried habanada pepper, originally fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm, spread onto a large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan, roasted T 400º for about 30 minutes, garnished with micro amaranth from Two GUys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, La Tapatia Chardonnay Carneros 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Mozart’s very early (1767) opera, ‘Apollo Et Hyacinthus’, from the album, ‘Complete Mozart Edition Vol 26’

Sometimes the picture on these posts may be as good as the food, but not always, since my first priority is getting the plate to the table rather than arranging an “I’m ready for my close up, Mr. DeMille” installation. This was one of those good sometimes.

The beautiful purple radishes were almost as key to this meal as the wonderful red sea perch, and I picked both of them up within the first few minutes of my arrival at the Union Square Greenmarket yesterday. I’ve cooked sea perch many times, but this was my first experience with purple Korean radishes (I bought the last 3 roots on the farmer’s table Friday).

• four red sea perch fillets from Pura Vida Seafood, rinsed, dried, brushed, the skin side and the other side, with 2 tablespoons of olive oil mixed with more than a teaspoon of a combination of chopped rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm and the white of one thinly-sliced Japanese scallion from Norwich Meadows Farm, seasoned, also on both sides, with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed inside an enameled cast iron pan and broiled skin side up, 4 or 5 inches from the flames, for about 5 minutes, or when the skin had become crisp (and it definitely did this time) and the fish was cooked through, sauced with a bit of olive oil in which 2 salted anchovies from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, had been heated over a very low flame for about 4 minutes until the anchovies had fallen apart, kept warm while the fillets were broiled, the perch finished on the plates with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and organic Whole Foods Market lemon wedges served on the side
• watercress, undressed, from Eataly
• Korean Bora King purple radishes (they’re purple on the inside as well) from Alewife Farm, unpeeled, trimmed, washed and scrubbed well, cut as thick wedges, tossed in a bowl with a little, olive oil; a pinch of dried golden habanada pepper; a few branches of thyme and winter savory, both from Stokes Farm; sea salt; and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted for 20 to 25 minutes or so, at 375º or 400º inside a medium Pampered Chef unglazed pan, garnished with micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a French (Bordeaux) white, Chateau Laulerie, Bergerac Blanc, 2016, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was an early Mozart opera (1767, with a debut in Salzburg; he was 11 at the time), ‘Die Schuldigkeit Des Ersten Gebots’, Ian Page conducting the Classical Opera Company, with  Sophie Bevan, Andrew Kennedy, Sarah Fox, and Allan Clayton

I’ve cooked seared duck breast more often than I can count, but it’s never the same, even when the trimmings are, and it’s never a disappointment.

This wonderful local bird is available all year round, but I can’t quite get used to enjoying Brussels sprouts in the middle of the winter.

• one duck breast (.85 lbs) from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then sprinkled top and bottom with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing for about 45 minutes before it was pan-fried inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan, dry, over medium heat for a total of about 10 minutes, the fatty side down first, then turned over halfway through, draining the oil from the pan part of the way through [to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired], the duck removed when done (cut into 2 portions to check that the center is of the right doneness, which means no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a drizzle of juice from an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, a bit of chopped rosemary from Stokes Farm and a drizzle of olive oil [NOTE: the tenderloin, to the right of the breast proper in the image above, had been removed before the duck was marinated, but seasoned like the rest of it, then fried very briefly near the end of the time the larger section was cooking]
• two ripe, halved, Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, dried with a paper towel, placed cut side down inside the pan as the breast was was finishing, turned once, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged on the plates next to the duck and drizzled with a drop of olive oil
• micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge, a garnish for the tomatoes
• small January Brussels sprouts from John D. Madura Farms, snapped directly off their 2-foot stalk, washed, trimmed, and dried, then tossed with olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted in a 400º oven on a large unglazed Pampered Chef oven pan until they were browned and crisp on the outside (they will taste surprisingly sweet and quite nutty), arranged on the plates and finished with a sprinkling of herbed fresh breadcrumbs (although become somewhat dry and crusty themselves after 10 days), left from a supply made for an earlier meal, that is, a mixture of crumbs from what was then a day-old polenta boule from She Wolf Bakery, finely-chopped fresh thyme and winter savory leaves from Stokes Farm, a little peppermint from Phillips Farm, parsley from S. & S.O. Produce, salt, and pepper
• the wine was a French (Cotes-du-Rhone) red, La Manarine, Cotes-du-Rhone, 2015, from Flatiron Wines & Spirits
• the music was Vivaldi’s ‘Dresden Sonatas’, performed by Europa Galante, Fabio Biondi, violin, Rinaldo Alessandrini, cembalo, and Maurizio Naddeo, cello

In spite of its somewhat grand appearance in the picture above, it’s one of the most perfect minimal meals I know, and it’s been very popular with Barry and me for years. This time it was even more spectacular, for a reason probably related to a decision to include some habanada pepper in the mix.

Monkfish is the ideal choice, but almost any firm white-fleshed fish would work.

Also, I don’t think I had ever before included the particular potato cultivar, Nicola, that went into dish last night, although we had already enjoyed it in other dishes several times before. I  picked out medium sizes while at the Greenmarket stall yesterday. While researching it today and looking for a link to use, I learned this potato had its origins in the Lüneburger Heide [Eng. Luneberg Heath] in Lower Saxony.

The original recipe, from Mark Bittman, appeared in the New York Times almost 20 years ago.

These images show the dish as it looked just before it went into the oven with the fish, and as it looked coming out 10 or 12 minutes later:

• * four monkfish tails (a total of 20 ounces) from American Seafood Company, rinsed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted at 400º for 10 or 12 minutes with three fourths of a cup of black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia, pits removed, on top of a bed of a full pound of very thinly-sliced unpeeled Nicola potatoes from Hawthorne Valley Farm that had been scrubbed, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and already roasted for about 40 minutes (reversing the direction of the pan once) in a very generous amount of olive oil (1/4 of a cup) with 13 dry Italian bay leaves, also from Buon Italia, and a pinch or so of a mix of both crushed dried orange/gold and crushed dark habanada pepper inside a large enameled cast iron pan, the potatoes having been removed when they had softened and their edges had begun to crisp, the contents of the pan, after the fish was cooked through, arranged on 2 plates and garnished with micro red amaranth from two Guys from Woodbridge, with a little undressed watercress from Eataly nestled on the side
• the wine was a California (Napa) white, Sterling Vintner’s Collection Pinot Grigio 2016, from Philippe Liquors
• the music was Mozart’s 1775 opera, ‘Il Re Pastore’, Ian Page conducting the Classical Opera, with soloists Sarah Fox, John Mark Ainsley, Ailish Tynan, and Benjamin Hulett

Last night, just after we had finished eating, and before writing this post, I followed up on a tweet and reply I had published earlier in the evening that had indicated, with no embellishments, what one of the major parts of this meal would be (I even included an image of the sauerkraut while it was cooking). That second tweet read,

not saying it just because there’s been a certain buildup to this meal, and some of us know not every meal coming out of this kitchen is even very good, but tonight’s (sauerkraut, smoked pork chops, Saltzkartoffeln with toasted rye bread crumbs, was sublime

The dinner really was very, very good, although I can’t explain why. In fact, just before I had begun to put it together I had thought about aborting it and coming back to it on another day: I had learned I didn’t have a couple of the ingredients for the particular sauerkraut I had hoped to serve with the Rauchbier I planned to serve with the meal. Instead I shifted gears and turned to another recipe, but keeping the Rauchbier.

I would say that nothing was really new in any of the 3 parts of the entrée, either the ingredients or the techniques used, except for caraway bread crumbs as the topping for the potatoes. I did accidentally reverse the order of the covered/uncovered sequence in the early cooking of the sauerkraut, but I had expected starting off uncovered would have had a negative effect on the texture, if not the flavor; it might actually have been a boon.

In any event, this meal made me very happy, also because I brought it in under our new mutually-agreed dinner deadline, making us both very happy.

• * one 16-ounce glass jar of sauerkraut (simply cabbage, water, sea salt) from Schaller & Weber [also here] drained and very well-rinsed in several changes of cold water, drained again and placed inside a large, heavy, high-sided tin-lined copper pot with 2 medium sweet yellow onions and one red onion (the red one to be a little perverse), both from Norwich Meadows Farm,  one ‘Newtown Pippin’ apple from Samascott Orchards, 8 or 9 whole juniper berries and about the same number of Whole Foods Market proprietary brand peppercorns, a little sea salt, 1 large Sicilian bay leaf from Buon Italia, enough fresh water to almost cover the sauerkraut, with more added later on as needed, all brought to a boil then merely simmered (uncovered at first, this time) over a low flame, stirring occasionally, for less than half an hour, and then covered (again, this time) for 20 or 30 minutes more, after which two 9-ounce smoked pork chops (in Germany usually called Kassler) from Schaller & Weber, that had first been dried and briefly seared on both sides inside a dry cast iron pan, were buried in the sauerkraut and heated for about 15 or 20 minutes, the chops and sauerkraut arranged on 2 plates
• * somewhat over a pound (we could have survived with less, but they were absolutely delicious) of medium-size Nicola 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 vintage Corning Pyrex Flameware blue-glass pot in which they had cooked, a couple tablespoons of rich Kerrygold Pure Irish Butter [with 12 grams of fat per 14 grams, for each tablespoon of butter; American butter almost always has only 11 grams, which makes a surprising difference in both taste and texture], seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, after which the potatoes were arranged on the plates next to the chops and the sauerkraut and sprinkled with homemade breadcrumbs made from the heel of a loaf of Orwasher’s ‘Righteous Corn Rye’ which had first been browned in a little butter with a pinch of salt
• * we shared bottles of 2 different kinds of Bamberg Rauchbiere (more about both my own ancient and Barry’s more recent connection to that very special beer here, and here), Schlenkerla‘s ‘Fastenbier’ and ‘Urbock’, from Schaller & Weber
• * the music was Vicente Martin y Soler and Lorenzo da Ponte’s delightful 1786 opera, ‘Il Burbero Di Buon Cuore’, Christophe Rousset conducting the Madrid Teatro Real Orchestra

Last night’s dinner represented a return to Italy, or at least one interpretation of Italy. While there were no fish stalls in the Greenmarket on Monday, again because of the weekend’s bitter cold, but I did manage to put fish on the table.

Three years ago I wrote this about this terrific dish, and except for the fact that I actually haven’t served it since, for reasons I can’t explain even to myself, I stand by every word:

This simple meal became a standard in our kitchen from the day I first tried it.  It follows a classic and delicious Mark Bittman recipe which can be put together entirely with ingredients normally always on hand, meaning it’s perfect for those times when the cook has not had a chance to get to a market of any kind.  Bittman describes the parsley ‘garnish’ as optional, and so the dish maintains my boast, but I can’t imagine not including what is the most common herb in the kitchen, if at all possible.

• one medium roughly-chopped sweet yellow onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, stirred in a couple tablespoons of olive oil over a medium-high flame inside a large enameled cast iron pot until softened, followed there by a teaspoon of crushed dried Sicilian pepperoncino from Buon Italia, a generous amount of freshly-ground black pepper, 2 tablespoons of salted Sicilian capers, rinsed, and the contents of one 14-ounce can of Simpson Brands domestic (San Marzano-type) plum tomatoes, the tomatoes themselves first roughly chopped, the mixture cooked, stirring occasionally, until the tomatoes began to break up, the heat then lowered and the pot kept on the flame for 5 or 10 minutes more, then just before the pasta itself (8 ounces of Setaro spaghetti from Buon Italia), boiled barely al dente was added, 6 ounces of Portuguese Ás do Mar belly meat tuna in olive oil, already slightly flaked, slid into the sauce and mixed in, some reserved pasta water added and stirred in to ensure the pasta was not really dry, arranged in 2 shallow bowls, garnished with chopped parsley from Westside Market
• the wine was an Italian (Calabria) red, Scala, Ciro Rosso Superiore, 2013, from Flatiron Wines
• the music was Mozart’s 1772 ‘one-act dramatic serenade’, ‘Il sogno di scipione’, Ian Page condicting with the Classical Opera Company

I had only cooked goat ribs once before. It was early August, and I wanted to avoid turning on the oven, so I managed to devise a scheme that would allow be to cook them on top of the stove. They were delicious, and it was a very simple process, so I repeated it last night.

The ribs looked great on the plate, the aroma was wonderful, and they were very tasty, but we were both disappointed that they were quite chewy (the meat definitely did not ‘fall off the bone’). I might have had more success had I kept them on the grill pan even longer than I did, but I don’t know for certain. Even allowing for the fact that goat is nowhere near as fatty as pork, or even veal or beef, I think I could do better next time if I approached the cooking differently.

• one side of goat/cabrito riblets from Tony of Consider Bardwell Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, cut along the bone with a kitchen shears into 4 pieces, dried on paper towels and pan-grilled inside an enameled cast iron ribbed pan for a total of at least 20 minutes, basting all along with 2 long branches of rosemary, tied together and repeatedly dipped into a mixture of oil, red Rioja wine vinegar, crushed dried dark habanada pepper (from fresh ones purchased in the fall of 2016 from Norwich Meadows Farm), sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, replacing a very loose cover of tin foil between each sweep of the herb with its basting mixture, arranged on 2 plates, garnished with micro red amaranth from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• ten or 11 ounces of not-large white beets from Norwich Meadows Farm, trimmed, scrubbed, and cut into approximately 1-inch wedges, tossed in a bowl with 2 teaspoons of olive oil, more than 1 tablespoon of a mix of chopped herbs (fresh thyme and winter savory from Stokes Farm, sage from Keith’s Farm), more than half of a teaspoon of freshly-grated zest from a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged one flat side down on a cured unglazed medium Pampered Chef oven pan, placed in the  lower third of an oven preheated to 450°F, roasted, turning once or twice, until tender and slightly browned, or 20 to 25 minutes, arranged on the plates and garnished with chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the small amount of winter kale that remained from a large bunch from Hoeffner Farms we had enjoyed the night before, washed, drained, wilted inside a medium tin-lined antique copper pot in less than a tablespoon or so of olive oil in which 2 bruised and one halved clove of Rocambole garlic from Keith’s Farm had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and arranged on the plates, a little more olive oil drizzled on top
• the wine was a California (Lodi, I believe) red, F. Stephen Millier Black Label Cabernet Sauvignon California 2016, from Naked Wines
• the music was Wagner’s magnificent late (1887-1882) Bühnenweihfestspiel, ‘Parsifal’, a beautifully-engineered 1962 recording of a great performance, Hans Knappertsbusch conducting the Bayreuth Festival Orchestra and the Bayreuth Festival Chorus, with soloists Jess Thomas, Gustav Neidlinger, Niels Moller, Georg Paskuda, Gerhard Stolze, Dorothea Siebert, Irene Dalis, Martti Talvela, Gerd Nienstedt, Ursula Boese, Anja Silja, Gundula Janowitz, George London, Hans Hotter, and Sona Cervena