This is a pretty familiar entrée for us, but we never get tired of it.

The greens were a little novel, but they made for a side dish almost as plain as one could be. Although I’ve served it even more simply, not introducing it to any heat, I thought that this time it would be better to move it, however briefly, into a warm pan.

• twelve or 14 ounces of scrubbed, dried, and thinly sliced Natasha potatoes from Phillips Farms, arranged, overlapping, on the bottom of a glazed earthenware oven pan covered with 3 tablespoons, or slightly more, of a good Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin 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, and 10 fresh whole get Italian bay leaves from Buon Italia scattered on top, and then more oil (another 2 tablespoons or so) poured on top, the pan placed inside a 400º oven for about 20 minutes, turning it back to front halfway through, by which time the potatoes should have begun to brown, then two thirds of a cup of pitted Sicilian black oil-cured olives from Buon Italia [fewer olives would definitely not impoverish the flavors of the entrée, and I think I’ll try for that the next time) were scattered about them, and 2 monkfish tails (17 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood placed on top of everything, the fish sprinkled with salt and pepper and the pan returned to the oven for another 10 or 12 minutes more, or until the monkfish was tender but not overcooked, arranged on the plates garnished with a little micro red Russian kale from Windfall Farms 
• a handful of very beautiful and absolutely delicious ‘frizzy mustard’ greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, only barely heated in a little olive oil in which 2 halved cloves of ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms had been allowed to sweat a bit, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Beira) white, Quinta do Cardo White ‘Companhia das Quintas’ 2016, from Astor Wines

There was a cheese course

 

• the music throughout was the third act of Wagner’s ‘Parsifal’, the 1962 live Bayreuth Festival House performance, in which Hans Knappertsbusch conducts the Bayreuth Festival Orchestra and the Bayreuth Festival Chorus, with soloists Hans Hotter, Jess Thomas, Gustav Neidlinger, Irene Dalis, Niels Moller, Gerd Nienstedt, Sona Cervena, Ursula Boese, Gerhard Stolze, Georg Paskuda, Gundula Janowitz, Anja Silja, Elsa-Margrete Gardelli , Martti Talvela, George London, Rita Bartos, and Dorothea Siebert

The antipasto was ‘prepared food’ (prepared by the wife of our local fisherman), with the addition of a bit of greens, and the locally-made pasta that followed only needed a little working, and that too included a bit of greenery, as local as that which had accompanied the sseafood salad.

• eight ounces of a squid and conch salad (including olive oil, parsley, red pepper, lemon juice) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, made by Dolores Karlin, the wife of Phil Karlin, the fisherman himself, arranged on a thin bed of arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm, the seasoning of the salad adjusted, including a drizzle of juice from a Chelsea While Foods Market organic lemon
• leaves of peppery arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm, dressed with a good olive oil, sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a drizzle lemon juice, arranged as a bed for the salad
• slices of a superb 100% whole wheat bread from the bakery at Runner & Stone

Because both courses were so easily assembled, the water for the pasta could be heated while we were still enjoying the seafood salad, meaning there was no serious interruption before moving on the pasta.

• a few handfuls of roughly cut purple mustard greens from Lani’s Farm, stirred into a little olive oil inside a large vintage copper pot in which 2 small cloves of sliced ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt and pepper, and set aside while 8 ounces of a very good Agricola del Sole orecciette di grana arso from Flatiron Eataly had been cooked al dente, the pasta then drained, transferred into the pot with the garlic and greens, and seasoned with salt, pepper, and a pinch of an Eckerton Hill Farm crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper, some of the pasta cooking water added and the mix stirred over a high lame until the liquid had emulsified, then arranged inside shallow bowls and served tossed with some grated Sini Fulvi Pecorino Romano D.O.C. from the Chelsea Whole Foods Market, finishing with a drizzle of olive oil around the edges

 

• the wine throughout the meal was an Italian (Sicily) white, Corvo Bianco 2017, from Philippe Wines
• the music throughout was a recording of Berlioz’s 1846 légende dramatique, ‘La Damnation De Faust’, Kent Nagano conducting the Lyon Opera Orchestra and the Lyon Opera Chorus, with Thomas Moser, Susan Graham, Frédéric Caton, and José van Dam

Ooh.

I picked this entrée because of the weather forecast.

I thought we’d be enjoying 3 hours of their awesome cooking smells in addition to relishing the consumption of these two very rich, slowly-braised locally-sourced lamb shanks, together with the considerable delight of being snug inside during an early March snow storm.

The snow turned out to be a no-show, but the other parts were even better than I had anticipated.

The recipe is from the first of the terrific cookbooks by Gray and Rogers, ‘Rogers Gray Italian Country Cook Book’, and its both simple to follow and simply delicious.

I’ve normally served lamb shanks with polenta, but I love boiled German potato dumplings as much as I love boiled cornmeal. I had a package of 4 Kartoffelklöße in the freezer. Yeah, sure, I didn’t make them myself, but they really are terrific, and they’re incredibly easy to serve; remembering to defrost the package in time was the most difficult part of their preparation.

• with an oven turned on and set to 300º, two 8 or 9-ounce lamb shanks from Walter Adam‘s Shannon Brook Farm stall in the Union Square Greenmarket, dusted with a local Union Square Greenmarket-purchased whole wheat flour from The Blew family of Oak Grove Plantation in Pittstown, N.J., the flour having been seasoned with plenty of sea salt and fresh-ground black pepper, browned on all sides inside an oval, heavy, enameled cast iron pot, one with a snug lid, the shanks removed, the heat lowered and 2 peeled and finely-sliced sliced red onions from Norwich Meadows Farm added and cooked for about 10 minutes, or until softened and light brown, followed by 2 peeled and chopped cloves of Windfall Farms’ ‘music garlic’ and a few tablespoons of chopped fresh rosemary leaves from Trader Joe’s, all cooked for a couple of minutes, the heat raised and one fourth of a cup of balsamic vinegar and a third of a cup of red wine added, the liquids reduced over a few minutes until almost able to coat a spoon, the shanks now returned to the pot and the heat reduced, its contents covered with a piece of moistened parchment paper cut to fit its oval shape and the lid placed on, the pot set inside the oven, whose heat was now lowered to 275, or even 250, cooked until the meat is very tender (checking the meat every 20-25 minutes, adding more wine if necessary, each time basting it with a brush, turning the meat at least once, then finally checking for doneness after 2 hours, although 30 more minutes than that will likely be better (while they cooked, the shanks checked from time to time, using a brush to baste with the juices and adding more wine if the shanks look too dry, arranged on the plates next to some warm potato dumplings, the sauce drizzled on both meat and potatoes (the dumplings described below)

• one defrosted package of 4 imported German-made Melle’s Best Kartoffelklöße from the Schaller & Weber store, the potato dumplings boiled for 12 minutes in a pot of salted water, then drained and arranged on the plates, drizzled with some of the sauce

• purple mustard greens from Lani’s Farm, stirred into a little olive oil inside a large vintage copper pot in which 2 small cloves of sliced ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt and pepper, finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• thick slices of a really, really delicious 100% whole wheat bread from the bakery at Runner & Stone, (they were invited to give the potato dumplings a hand with the rich sauce)
• the wine was a Greek (Eastern Macedonia and Thrace/Drama) white, En Oeno 2010 (Cabernet Sauvignon 65% / Merlot 30% / Cabernet Franc 5%), from Foragers Market Wine
• the music was what has sometimes been described as the greatest recording of all times, the 1962 live Bayreuth Festival House performance of Wagner’s 1877-1882 opera, ‘Parsifal’, in which Hans Knappertsbusch conducts the Bayreuth Festival Orchestra and the Bayreuth Festival Chorus, with soloists Hans Hotter, Jess Thomas, Gustav Neidlinger, Irene Dalis, Niels Moller, Gerd Nienstedt, Sona Cervena, Ursula Boese, Gerhard Stolze, Georg Paskuda, Gundula Janowitz, Anja Silja, Elsa-Margrete Gardelli , Martti Talvela, George London, Rita Bartos, and Dorothea Siebert [we could only listen to the first 2 of 3 acts; we will pick up the rest on Monday]

 

[the image of the package of Kartoffelklöße is from the Melle’s Best site]

There was mustard.

But so much more.

I found the haddock first (I almost always head for the fish stands before looking at anything else), and then, while looking for vegetables, I spotted a farmer new to the Union Square Greenmarket: She was offering a beautiful selection of mushrooms, along with 5 different sizes of eggs produced by her free range chickens in Vineland, New Jersey [I just found this 1987 New York Times article on the history of Jewish chicken farming in New Jersey].

I now had my entrée secured, and I had already decided which greens I’d be serving to accompany it.

The preparation itself began with the mushrooms and finished with the fish; the simple operation of braising the mustards somehow found its way in the middle.

• two tablespoons of olive oil heated inside a very thick-walled tin-lined copper 14-inch oval sauté pan over medium-high heat until barely starting to smoke, 6 or 7 ounces of sliced Lion’s mane, aka pom pom, mushrooms from Gail’s Farm, in Vineland, New Jersey tossed in, seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a pinch of a combination of 2 peppers (crushed home-dried light-colored habanada purchased fresh from Norwich Meadows Farm, and hickory-smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet from Eckerton Hill Farm, cooked, stirring occasionally, until well browned, or 3 to 4 minutes, transferred to warmed plates (in a warm oven, door ajar), and set aside, the pan wiped dry, a tablespoon of olive oil added, the flame turned up to medium-high and, once the oil was shimmering, the mushrooms replaced by one 16-ounce haddock fillet from P.E. & D.D. Seafood that had been halved crosswise and seasoned with salt and pepper, cooked, flesh sides down, without moving until well browned, or about 3 minutes, carefully flipped over and cooked on the skin sides until the haddock was just cooked through, or about 2 minutes longer, transferred to the plates next to the mushrooms, while one cup of good vegetable stock was added to the same pan and cooked over high heat until reduced by half, the pan removed from the flame and 2 tablespoons of butter and 2 tablespoons of Chelsea Whole Foods Market organic lemon were stirred in, the sauce seasoned to taste with salt and pepper and poured over both the fish and the mushrooms, finished with a garnish of micro red mustard from windfall farms, in a line dividing haddock and pompoms, with lemon wedges served on the side [I mostly used this Serious Eats recipe]

• one bunch of mizuna (aka kyona, Japanese mustard greens, or spider mustard) from Norwich Meadows farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 halved cloves of ‘music garlic’ from Windfall Farms had first been allowed to sweat and begin to color, the greens seasoned with salt and pepper, arranged on the plates and a little more olive oil drizzled on top
• the wine was a French (Southwest) white, with semillon, sauvignon blanc, and sauvignon gris grapes, Chateau Lassolle (Stephanie Roussel) Triple S 2014, from Copake Wine Works
• the music was a recording of the 2008 Stadttheater Bern performance of Per Nørgård’s 1932 opera, ‘Der göttliche Tivoli (The Divine Circus)’; the opera portrays the schizophrenic Swiss artist Adolf Wölfli (1864-1930)

No, you’re not seeing double. Only a few days ago we had begun a different meal with an antipasto using almost all the same ingredients as those seen above, so it was probably a good thing that I led that post with the Marx Brothers rather than this wonderful salume.

The only variation, and because of the repeat it was a conscious one, was in the greens that accompanied what my parents always called “cold cuts.”

• less than 2 ounces of Giorgio’s coppa dolce from Flatiron Eataly, drizzled with a bit of Trader Joe’s unfiltered Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil
• a small handful of Windfall Farms’ crunchy sunflower sprouts, also drizzled with a little oil
• slices of the excellent ‘table bread’ from Philadelphia’s Lost Bread CO ((half organic bread flour, half fresh milled whole grain wheat, spelt, rye, malted barley, plus water and salt)

I knew I was going to follow the coppa with a pasta course, but at first I was totally at sea about what kind it would be. It didn’t help that I had an embarrassment of riches with all the ingredients I had on hand. Then I remembered that I still had a small container in the refrigerator with stems from the delicious purple-green kale I had served the day before this.

After that, and deciding on a full, earthy-flavored local pasta, I just layered a few things around it and we ended up with the bowl in the picture above.

• eight ounces of Sfoglini ‘Whole Grain Reginetti’, cooked only barely al dente, added to a vintage large copper pot in which a sauce had been prepared heating a sliced medium ‘yellow shallot’ from Windfall Farms and the chopped stem sections of a few small celery stalks from Philipps Farms in a little olive oil over a medium flame until both had softened and become fragrant, adding the braised handful of stems of of some delicious, sweet, slightly purple flat kale from Norwich Meadows Farm that had not been cooked with the leaves when they were prepared on Friday night, a dozen pitted Gaeta olives from Buon Italia in the Chelsea Market, and a pinch of a crushed (dried) hickory-smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, generously seasoned with freshly-ground black pepper, the mix stirred over high heat along with almost 3 quarters of a cup of reserved pasta water for a minute or so, or until the liquid had emulsified, some of the celery stalks’ roughly-chopped leaves mixed in and the pasta arranged inside shallow bowls, sprinkled with some homemade bread crumbs browned a little in a bit of olive oil, garnished with some more kale, this time some wispy micro red Russian kale from Windfall Farms, and finished with a little olive oil drizzled around the edges

 

• the wine throughout the meal was an Italian (Sicily) red, Corvo Rosso 2016, (Nerello Mascalese and Nero d’Avola grapes), from Philippe Wines
• the music throughout was from Louis Andriessen’s incredible “film opera”, ‘La Commedia’

There was chicken in the pot last night. Well, parts of chicken.

As I tweeted last night, near the end of this delicious simple meal, that doesn’t happen here very often, and, repeating something else I wrote, meals with chicken as good as this make me question my judgment.

I worked with the simple outlines of a Mark Bittman ‘recipe’ I’d used at least once before.

• four 6-ounce chicken thighs, the Cascun Farms‘ Cornish Cross breed, from Eataly Flatiron, rinsed, patted dry, and seasoned with sea salt, freshly ground black pepper, and a pinch or 2 of crushed dried habanada pepper, browned well on both sides in two tablespoons or so of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ inside a heavy antique high-sided copper pot, the pot covered and cooked over medium-low heat, turning occasionally, until the internal temperature was 155-165 degrees, or the juices run clear, this time taking slightly less than 15 minutes, transferred to plates resting inside my 1934 Magic Chef at the ‘slow oven’ setting, the door wedged ajar with the bamboo toast tongs that rest next to it, one minced ‘yellow shallot’ from Norwich Meadows Farm and about a fourth of a cup of white wine introduced to the pot, the heat raised to medium high and the liquid reduced until it had become a sauce, then more than a dozen chopped tarragon leaves from Flatiron Eataly added and stirred in, the sauce transferred to a glass sauce boat, from which some of it was poured over the chicken

• one bunch of sweet, absolutely delicious, slightly purple flat kale from Norwich Meadows Farm wilted inside a large enameled cast iron pot in a little olive oil in which 2 halved and slightly bruised cloves of Windfall Farms ‘music’ garlic had first been allowed to sweat and begin to brown, the greens seasoned with salt, pepper, and a little more olive oil
• slices of ‘table bread’ from Lost Bread Company

There was a cheese course.

 

Like many nights, dinner at home was also a night at the opera.

A note on the subject of our dinner music: During our evening meals we often listen to a recording of an entire opera (or a large section of one, continuing it later that night or the next day). I could call it our version of the little-mourned 1970s ‘dinner theater’ vogue, a cringeworthy form of entertainment that is now fortunately just about defunct, but I’m not going to.

Yet I do think our arrangements of dinner with classical music theater, even without the visuals, beats any other way of enjoying the operatic art form, except for the right seats at a good live performance. I have to point out that one thing in its favor not available to audience members at a live performance is the pleasure of exchanging reactions to the work, either silent or spoken, while sitting across from the perfect dinner (and opera) companion. Also, being able to talk freely during the performance, and and to call for – and get – an “encore” of a particularly good aria or section from the piece. Oh, also, always some good wine at your seat.

Still, the food is always the evening’s raison d’être. Last night, while we listened to [most of] a great recording of Vivaldi’s ‘Il Farnace’, we were also enjoying a very good dinner.

The first course, although dominated by a meat, was uncharacteristically lighter than the main course of fish (noting that, had the order been the other way around, a heavy seafood dish followed by a light one of meat, it would not have been nearly as satisfactory).

• a little more than 2 ounces of Giorgio’s coppa dolce from Flatiron Eataly, drizzled with a bit of Trader Joe’s unfiltered Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil
• a small spray of arugula from Norwich Meadows Farm, also drizzled with olive oil, and sprinkled with Malden salt and freshly ground black pepper
• slices of the excellent ‘table bread’ (half organic bread flour, half fresh milled whole grain
  wheat, spelt, rye, malted barley, plus water and salt) of Philadelphia’s Lost Bread Co.

The main course was commissioned by Barry, who requested an entrée of a firm white fish roasted on the top of sliced baked potatoes, for a cold February evening.

For what it’s worth, there were 11 potatoes left in the farmers’ basket on Monday. I bought them all. They weighted exactly one pound. Every one of them was perfect. Nice.

• two 7-and-a-half-ounce cod fillets from American Seafood Company in the Union Square greenmarket, cooked using at least the basics of a recipe from Mark Bittman which I had come across many years ago, the cod washed and rinsed, placed in a platter on a bed of coarse sea salt, with more salt added on top until the pieces were completely covered, then set aside while a bed was prepared for them composed of a pound of la ratte potatoes from Phillips Farms, each sliced lengthwise by hand into 4 or 5  sections to a thickness of roughly 1/4″, then tossing them in a large bowl with olive oil, salt, black pepper, and a pinch of a dried smoked Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, arranging the potatoes, overlapping, inside a rectangular glazed ceramic oven pan and cooking them for 25 minutes or so in a 400º oven, or until they were tender when pierced but not fully cooked, and then, the cod having already been thoroughly immersed in many fresh changes of water to bring down the saltiness, the fillets drained, dried, and placed inside the pan on top of the potatoes, drizzled with a little olive oil and sprinkled with black pepper, blanketed with thin slices of 3 Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, the tomatoes seasoned, lightly, with salt and pepper, the pan returned to the oven for about 8 or 9 minutes (the exact time depends on the thickness of the fillets), the cod removed with a spatula (or, better, 2 spatulas), along with as much of the potatoes as can be brought along with each piece, arranging everything as intact if possible onto the plates, returning to the pan for the remainder of the vegetables

• a handful of very beautiful and absolutely delicious ‘frizzy mustard’ greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, drizzled with a bit of the same Trader Joe’s olive oil, which is really very good
• the wine throughout the meal was a California (Central Coast/Santa Ynez Valley) white, Rick Boyer Santa Ynez Valley Dry White Blend 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music throughout the meal was the first two acts of Vivaldi’s three-act 1726 opera, ‘Il Farnace’, in an extraordinarily beautiful performance led by Jordi Savall; when we listened to it one year ago I wrote that “..it was now at least our third hearing, not counting this one, from over 12 years ago, in which Vivaldi’s music accompanies Muntean/Rosenblum’s ‘It Is Never Facts That Tell’, the collaborative’s digital projection of a great world emptied and reduced to an enormous landfill, achingly beautiful, even without the music which accompanies its hooded figures”; we’re listening to the third act of the Jordi Savall recording as I write this the next day

[the image at the top, a still from the 1935 Marx Brothers comedy, ‘A night at the Opera‘, is from Film Forum, but the link is not loading right now]

Something of a study in contrasts, with a green theme running through it, but it was also a late-winter dinner with a balance of two very different elements entertained by herbs that are normally associated with warmer seasons.

We liked it a lot.

• one tablespoon of olive oil and 2 tablespoons of butter heated in a large enameled cast iron skillet over medium-high heat, one medium clove of a ‘music’ garlic aka ‘strong neck’ garlic from Windfall Farms, sliced, slipped in and cooked, stirring occasionally, until it was pale golden, after which 30 washed and thoroughly-dried Peconic bay scallops [that link is to a discussion of Wareham Bay scallops] from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket added and quickly sautéed, without moving, until seared (about 30 seconds), then flipped and seared on the other side (tough to do quickly and completely, no matter how handy the cook may be) for about 30 seconds more, the scallops then removed from the pan and placed on warm plates while the flame was reduced to medium and almost 2 more tablespoons of butter added, the butter allowed to turn a light brown color (although pans with black inside surfaces, like the one I used this time, make this difficult to determine), the heat turned off and about a tablespoon of Whole Foods Market organic lemon juice and a few tablespoons of chopped parsley from Trader Joe’s added and pushed around for a few seconds before the sauce was seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and poured over the scallops on the plates
• about a pound of ‘Magic Molly‘ fingerling potatoes from Race Farm, washed, scrubbed, left unpeeled, dried, sliced lengthwise, mixed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a piece of crushed dried light-colored habanada pepper, and several stems of fresh rosemary leaves from Phillips Farms, roasted at 375º [the oven could have been set a little higher] for about 25 minutes, garnished with some fresh chives, also from Phillips Farms
• a handful of sunflower sprouts from Windfall Farms, drizzled with a little olive oil
• the wine was a French (Loire) white, Sancerre, Sommet Doré 2017, from Astor Wines

• the music was a classic 1992 recording of Bizet’s 1875 opera ‘Carmen’, Claudio Abbado conducting the London Symphony Orchestra, the Ambrosian Singers, and the George Watson’s College Boys’ Chorus, with soloists Teresa Berganza, Placido Domingo, Ileana Cotrubas, and Sherrill Milnes (it shouldn’t surprise anyone that, in 1875, “..its breaking of conventions shocked and scandalized its first audiences.”)

 

A little aside about bay scalloping:

Jan, who is a member of the P.E. & D.E. Seafood family, told me on Monday at their Union Square Greenmarket stand that bay scallops cannot be harvested on Sundays. When I asked whether that was part of seafood conservation rules, she said, no, that it was a “wives’ rule”, and that it goes way back.

I love the people and culture of the littoral Northeast, including the fact that, at least years ago, virtually everyone occasionally goes clamming, and, where it’s possible, scalloping, including bay scalloping. I pictured generations of wives and girlfriends putting their feet down, telling their husbands, and sons and daughters, that they have to be around the house at least one day of the week, and Sunday would have been an obvious choice (maybe it was at least partly a go-to-church thing as well).

The next day, doing a little research on line, I learned that there may also be a legal basis for the our local paralians’ rule about not harvesting bay scallops on Sundays, although the relevant statute may originate in the same rationale for the wives’ rule described by Jan: Under, “Gear restrictions” in the section of the rules for harvesting the scallops in Peconic bays and other waters in the area, the second of two clauses reads “Bay scallops shall not be taken on Sundays by use of a dredge or other device operated by power.”

So maybe Sunday could be both a day together and a scalloping day, the whole family wading into the water with hand rakes, foraging for dinner, not for the market.

 

[the second image, an Illustration of Bizet’s opera Carmen published in Journal Amusant, 1875, is from the Wikipedia entry for the opera]

Only 5 clams per serving.

I was surprised, even with the help of some good bread and the somewhat creative recipe I found on line, that I could transform 10 small clams into a delicious meal for the 2 of us on Saturday night, .

I want to call it the extraordinary event of the loaves and the bivalves.

I had originally planned to serve the clams raw, on the half shell, as a small first course the day before, but my unsuccessful first try at opening them (well, I only tried one of them) had scared me off. I could have tried heating them in the oven, and then chilling them again, but that sounded too fussy, and it would have confirmed the fact of my earlier failure, so I decided to incorporate them into one of my favorite pasta dishes, spaghetti alla vongole. The only problem was going to be their small number, so I looked round the internet for ideas for expanding their impact in a full 8 ounces of dried pasta.

The bon appétit recipe I ended up using still asked for more clams than I had, but it added ingredients I would not normally have included in a clam pasta, so it actually worked out perfectly, and it was perfectly delicious.

The clams even ended up cooked à point.

The recipe itself seems far more complicated than it should be, or at least more prolix, even after I had edited it down a little, but I can’t complain about the result.

• two cloves of ‘music’ garlic from Windfall Farms chopped up inside a counter blender I’ve had for decades (I don’t have a real food processor, other than myself) before adding about 3 ounces of a loaf of 12 Grain & Seed bread from Bread Alone, crusts removed and cut into half-inch pieces, pulsed several times until reduced to fine crumbs, tossed into a large enameled cast iron pot in which a tablespoon or two of olive oil had been heated over a medium-high flame, the crumbs cooked, stirring often, until they had turned golden and fairly crisp (5 to 7 minutes), then transferred to a bowl, adding 1 or 2 teaspoons of zest from an organic Chelsea Whole Foods Market lemon, seasoned with sea salt, tossed to combine everything then set aside, the pot wiped out with paper toweling, a third of a cup of oil poured into it and heated over a medium flame, and 6 more garlic cloves, sliced very thinly, tossed in and cooked, stirring often, until golden around the edges, joined by 2 Sicilian anchovies packed in salt, from Buon Italia, rinsed and filleted, along with half a teaspoon of crushed Calabrian peperoncino, also from Buon Italia, all cooked, stirring, until the garlic was totally softened and golden, and the anchovies dissolved, then one fourth of a cup of white wine poured in, quickly stirred and simmered until only a couple of tablespoons of liquid were left in the pot, 10 small washed littleneck clams from Pura Vida Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket tossed in and stirred, the pot covered and the clams cooked until they had opened, which was approximately 7 or 8 minutes, the pot uncovered and the clams transferred to a medium bowl, leaving the liquid in the pot, the bowl tented with foil, while adding to the pot exactly 8 ounces of Neapolitan Afeltra Pasta di Gragnano I.G.P. Spaghetti chitarra from Flatiron Eataly, which had already been cooking inside a large pot of boiling water for only 5 minutes, but not before 2 cups of the pasta cooking liquid had been scooped out, and half to 3 quarters of it added with the pasta and brought to a boil, cooked, tossing constantly, adding still more liquid as needed, until the spaghetti was al dente and the liquid emulsified, or, more specifically, glossy and thick enough to cling to the pasta, or for about 5 minutes, the pot removed from the heat and a quarter of a cup of chopped parsley from Trader Joe’s and a couple tablespoons of butter added, the pasta stirred until the butter had melted, after which roughly a third of the reserved breadcrumbs were tossed in and combined with the rest of the pot’s contents, the entrée served by arranging most of it in shallow bowls (avoiding filling them up, which is always a good idea when serving pasta, for both its appearance and the taste, the remainder reserved on the top of the range to follow as a second helping), topped with the reserved clams, more breadcrumbs, more peperoncino, more parsley, and drizzled with a little olive oil (note: there were no actual clams in the second helpings)
• the wine was a French (Savoie) white, Jean Perrier et Fils, Vin de Savoie Abymes Gastronomie 2017, from Flatiron Wines 
• the music was Purcell’s 1689 opera, ‘Dido and Aeneas’ (I’ve said it before, but it’s one of my favorite operas from any period, even after having played my single LP of excerpts over and over in the 50s and 60s, often on weed, until I had worn out the grooves), in a performance  with René Jacobs conducting the Orchestra of the Age of Enlightenment

Bacon and eggs, with the traditional diner ‘salad’, only here the lettuce is dark purple.

In another break from counter custom, the freshly ground black pepper was supplemented this morning with a bit of a freshly crushed smoked chili pepper.

• the breakfast ingredients included very fresh eggs from pastured chickens and bacon from pastured pigs, both from Millport Dairy Farm; local (regional) Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ placed to the side, for the toast, also from Whole Foods Market; one short section of a very very thinly sliced Phillips Farms scallion, chopped fresh thyme from the Chelsea Whole Foods Market, chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and a pinch of crushed dried hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet pepper from Eckerton Hill Farm, all sprinkled on the eggs, along with some Maldon salt and freshly ground black pepper; lightly toasted slices of a loaf of Bread Alone’s 12 Grain & Seed bread (organic wheat and whole wheat, 12 cracked grains, seeds); and one small head of purple bibb Rosaine lettuce from Norwich Meadows Farm, drizzled with a bit of Trader Joe’s Italian Reserve extra virgin olive oil
• the music was Hector Berlioz’s awesome 1837 ‘Requiem’, or ‘Grande messe des morts, Op. 5′, Roger Norrington conducting the Stuttgart Radio Symphony Orchestra, the Leipzig Radio Chorus, and the Southwest German Radio Vocal Ensemble