Sometimes these crab cake meals are virtually salads, but for me they’re actually easier (quicker at least) to put onto the table than the real thing, whether the salad is to serve as the whole meal, or only one of its elements.

And there’s almost as much room for improvising as there is in putting together a salad.

To top it off, they’re made by Delores, the wife of Phil, the fisherman. Yup.

Some form or another of this simple crab cake assemblage is a regular on our table, and we never tire of it.

• two crab cakes from PE & DD Seafood (crab, egg, flour, red & green peppers, garlic, salt, pepper, breadcrumbs, mayonnaise, milk, celery, and parsley), defrosted in the refrigerator earlier in the day, heated with a drizzle of olive oil inside a small heavy well-seasoned vintage cast iron pan, 3 to 4 minutes to each side, served on a salsa strewn over a bed of undressed mizuna from Alewife Farm, the salsa composed of 7 large-ish chopped Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, 8 or so young ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm (the bulbs chopped, the greens sliced) that had first been wilted in olive oil inside a small pan, a quarter of a teaspoon of Safinter Pimenton de la Vera smoked picante paprika, and some chopped fresh oregano leaves from Stokes Farm, a bit more chopped oregano placed on top of the cakes, all of it garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• a mix of greens that included much more of the mizuna and some young red mustard, both from Alewife farm, washed in several changes of water, then wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 chopped spring garlic stems from John D. Madura Farm had been allowed to sweat, inside a large antique, high-sided copper pot, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• slices of an organic multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
• the wine was a California (Lodi) white, Matt Iaconis Lodi Albariño 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Pierre-Laurent Aimard playing Messiaen’s ‘Catalogue d’oiseaux’, or at least most of it

Last night I tweeted that I had found my go-to recipe for sea bass. I’ll elucidate.

I had arrived early (early for me) at the greenmarket that day, so there was a huge selection at the fish stand. Filtering out the various finfish and shellfish I’d cooked recently, which accounted for a good number, I narrowed our dinner choice down to 2 very fresh half-pound sea bass fillets. A few minutes later I found some terrific-looking greens, and a favorite crunchy multigrain baguette.

I thought I was all set, but once I arrived home I remembered that I had a lot of ramps, and a small bag of oyster mushrooms in the refrigerator.  I had been determined to prepare the fish in the most minimal way I could this time, and concentrate on producing a beautiful crispy skin, so I worked at coming up with a recipe that would fit the new program. What you see above was the product, and the tweet described my excitement with the result.

I’m only sorry I didn’t spend a little more time on the photograph above, because the meal tasted far more exciting than it looks.

I placed some radishes on the kitchen counter for the cook and his muse to nibble on while before the meal was served.

• *scrubbed radishes, really good ‘French breakfast radishes’ from Eckerton Hill Farm, together and a small dish of Maldon salt (from the River Blackwater estuary in Essex, England)

Otherwise the dinner was contained in one course.

• *three stems of spring garlic from from John D. Madura Farm, cut into one-inch lengths, sautéed until softened in a little Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil and Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ inside a large rectangular, enameled cast iron pan over medium heat, then removed and discarded, or maybe set aside for another day [NOTE: this first step, in which mature garlic could be substituted at other times of the year is definitely optional, especially if the cook is in a hurry], a little more oil and butter added, the flame raised to medium-high and two nearly-8-ounce sea bass fillets from Pura Vida Seafood Company, previously rinsed, dried with paper towels, and seasoned with sea salt, added to the pan and seared, skin side down first, for 3 to 4 minutes (the skin should be nicely golden and fairly crisp by then), turned over and cooked for another minute or so, removed and placed on 2 plates, kept warm, either in a warm oven or tented with aluminum foil, while 2 ounces of chopped yellow oyster mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation were added to the skillet and sautéed until slightly undercooked, more oil added once again, if necessary, and a dozen or so trimmed and washed young ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm tossed in (the bulbs chopped, the greens sliced), and sautéed for roughly one minute, the ramps and mushrooms divided between the 2 warm plates and a bass fillet placed on each ‘bed’, finished with a generous squeeze of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, and garnished with chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, ending with lemon wedges placed on the side of the plates [NOTE: the mushrooms are an option, and their quantity can vary a bit, but they really enrich the flavors of both the fish and the ramps]

cooks critique: the bed of mushrooms and ramps should have been more visible; and while I eventually realized the bass had in fact been cooked perfectly, there was a scary moment after I first cut into one of the fillets to check its color and opacity (it’s no fun even contemplating having to return any seafood to a heat source once it’s arrived on the plate); finally, I described it as my “go-to recipe now for sea bass, and yet it clearly includes a few very specifically-seasonal ingredients, so my explanation is that all of those lend themselves to one or more substitutions (mature garlic for spring garlic; any mushrooms, even reconstituted ones, for the oyster mushrooms; almost anything green, herb or vegetable, for the ramps; and all kinds of herbs or micro greens would love to stand in for the bronze fennel

• slices, or more like wedges, of a terrific multigrain baguette from Bread Alone
• one small head of a northern Italian tardivo radicchio from Flatiron Eataly [I felt guilty that it wasn’t local, but it looked so pretty on the shelf, I love that very special chicory, and I realized it meant I wouldn’t have to wait maybe 6 months for the wonderful Campo Rosso Farm‘s crop for my next hit], washed under cold running water, the moisture shaken off, cut in 4 sections lengthwise and a V-cut made most of the way through the root end, allowing that part to cook more rapidly, tossed with a little olive oil, sea salt, and freshly-ground black pepper, arranged inside an enameled cast iron pan over medium-high heat, one of their cut sides down, each covered with a couple of rosemary sprigs from Stokes Farm, cooked for a few minutes then turned onto a second cut side and cooked for a few more, and finally turned and cooked briefly onto the third, before they were arranged on the plates [note: the tardivo can be served either hot or warm, so it’s an excellent low-stress accompaniment to meats or fish]
• the wine was a California (Sonoma) white, Jacqueline Bahue Carte Blanche Sauvignon Blanc Sonoma Valley 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was the Berlin Classics album, ‘Vivaldi: La Venezia di Anna Maria’

Larger-size sea scallops don’t show up that often at the fish stands in the Union Square Greenmarket, so I couldn’t pass these up on Wednesday. I found my vegetable a few minutes later, and I already had some very ripe tomatoes at home, so everything was set but the fixing of it.

• *8 large sea scallops (a pound) from American Seafood Company, washed, drained and very thoroughly dried on paper towels (twice), generously seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, pan grilled for about 90 seconds on each side, finished with a squeeze of organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and some Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend, arranged on 2 plates and garnished with micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• five large Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market, halved, the cut sides sprinkled with a small amount of sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, placed that side down in a little olive oil over a low flame inside a heavy tin-lined copper skillet until they had softened, turned over, the heat cut off a minute later, divided onto the plates where they were garnished with some bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm, some of it left whole, some chopped

• *a bit more than half of a 14 or 15-ounce bag of absolutely delicious young spinach plants from Migliorelli Farm, the bottom of their root ends removed, washed in several changes of water, drained, very gently wilted (that is, not reduced too far) inside a large, very heavy, antique, high-sided tin-lined copper pot in a little olive oil in which 2  cut stems of spring garlic from John D. Madura Farm had first been allowed to soften, the spinach seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia, finished on the plates drizzled with a little juice of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon and a bit more of the olive oil
• the wine was a Portuguese (Minho) white, Quinta Do Regueiro Alvarinho 2016, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the second disc of the album we had played yesterday,  Philip Corner’s 2014, ‘Satie Slowly’

(it looks like I have a new photographer)

 

There was a salume and a pasta. Their inspiration was shared. They were both very good.

• four ounces of thinly-sliced Recla Speck Alto Adige IGP, from Bolzano, via Eataly, drizzled with Frankies 457 Sicilian olive oil, the gift of  a friend
• the last leaves/stems remaining from an arugula plant from Stokes Farm, plus a little micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge, both drizzled with the same olive oil, and also a bit of juice from an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, sprinkled with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper
• slices of a crusty semolina baguette from Eataly

The main course was just about as minimal as the appetizer.

• twelve ounces of fresh ravioli rounds from Luca Donofrio‘s fresh pasta shop inside Eataly’s Flatiron store, filled with ricotta, lemon zest, marjoram, nutmeg, and mascarpone, boiled carefully until barely cooked through in a large amount of well-salted water, drained, some of the pasta water retained, then slipped into a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 or 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ had been melted, stirred over medium heat after some of the pasta water had been added, in order to emulsify the liquid, almost a tablespoon of pink peppercorns (Fr. baie rose) from Dean & DeLuca added before the pasta was arranged inside 2 low bowls where it was topped with the zest from half of an organic Whole Foods Market lemon, and garnished with some chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm
• the wine was an Italian (Campania) white, Feudi di San Gregorio Falanghina 2016, from Phillippe Wines
• the music was Philip Corner’s 2014 album, ‘Satie Slowly’

I spotted the mackerel first thing at the Greenmarket on Monday. Then I saw the yellow mushrooms, and, a few minutes later, some very beautiful bronze fennel; the meal was now completely assembled in my head.

But when I brought it to the table, although I had washed and chopped it, I forgot all about sprinkling the fennel on the fish and the mushrooms, which means the entrée was only partially realized, as planned, although it was still very delicious.

The fennel would also have added to the aesthetic, but it will probably make an appearance in the meal to be served the next day [update: it did]

 

• nine small Boston mackerel fillets (a total of 14 ounces) from P.E. & D.D. Seafood in the Union Square Greenmarket, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed fairly gently in a couple tablespoons of butter inside a large, thick antique oval tin-lined copper pan, flesh side first, turned after about a minute and a half and the other side cooked for about the same length of time, removed and arranged on 2 plates when done, either covered, to keep warm, or, if it’s convenient to do so, placed inside a barely-warm oven, the heat kept low under the pan and another tablespoon of butter, or a little more, added, and when it had melted about 6 ounces of roughly-chopped yellow oyster mushrooms from Blue Oyster Cultivation tossed into the pan and sautéed, stirring, until lightly cooked, the mushrooms seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, and some ramps from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, bulbs chopped, leaves sliced, plus about a tablespoon (or a little more) of lemon juice added to the pan, everything briefly stirred with a wooden spatula, the mushrooms and their juices spooned around the mackerel (which I had intended to finish with some chopped bronze fennel from Norwich Meadows Farm)
• the remainder of a bunch of broccoli rabe (aka rapini) from Migliorelli Farm (most of it had been included in a meal a few days before), wilted in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 small sliced spring garlic stems from Windfall Farms had been heated until slightly softened, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, divided onto the plates, sprinkled with a little bit of dried pepperoncino Calabresi secchi from Buon Italia and drizzled with more olive oil
• slices of a whole wheat sourdough miche from Bread Alone Bakery
• the wine was an Oregon (Willamette Valley) white, Scott Kelley Pinot Gris Willamette 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Haydn’s last opera, ‘L’anima del filosofo, ossia Orfeo ed Euridice’ (The Soul of the Philosopher, or Orpheus and Euridice), written in London in 1791, but not performed until 1951, in Florence (when the lead role was sung by Maria Callas), the Academy of Ancient Music and the Academy of Ancient Music Chorus conducted by Christopher Hogwood

There were a number of intersections in this meal, and I thought about them only once the cooking was well underway. Although the word is inexact, and probably inapposite here, by ‘intersections’ I mean that there were some close relationships and repeats among its ingredients: There were 2 kinds of fresh greens, and 2 kinds of sweet potato. There were 3 members of the family brassicaceae (red mustard, radish greens, and micro red radish); each of the 3 main players, the duck, the potatoes, and the greens, was enhanced by a different allium (spring garlic for the mix of the 2 greens, dry garlic for the 2 potatoes, and micro scallion for the duck); 2 of these 3 parts were finished with a bit of both lemon and olive oil (the greens and the duck); and the cooking of a different combination began with some olive oil (the greens and the potatoes).

All of this is probably totally irrelevant to either the dinner’s appearance or its taste, but I like thinking about how it was somehow tied together in ways that were totally unplanned, or at least totally unconscious.

The most interesting intersection was that of Vincenzo Bellini and RIchard Wagner, in the music that we listened to during the meal. I had absolutely nothing to do with that one, as Barry was the DJ. Also, both composers have been dead for well over a hundred years.

• one 14-ounce duck breast from Hudson River Duck Farm, the fatty side scored in tight cross hatching with a very sharp knife, the entire breast then rubbed, top and bottom, with a mixture of sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, and a little turbinado sugar, left standing, first inside the refrigerator then on the counter, for about an hour altogether, before it was pan-fried, fatty side down first, inside a small oval enameled cast iron pan over medium heat for a total of about 9 minutes, turning once, draining the oil after the first few minutes (the fat to be strained and used in cooking later, if desired), removed when medium rare (cut crosswise into 2 portions to check that the center was of the right doneness, which means definitely no more than medium rare), left to sit for several minutes before it was finished with a drizzle of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market, a little Portuguese house olive oil from Whole Foods Market, some chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and then garnished with micro scallion, also from Two Guys.
• four sweet potatoes, or just under a pound, half of them ‘Japanese’ from Lani’s Farm, the other half ‘Carolina Ruby’ from Samascott Orchards, left unpeeled, but washed thoroughly, cut as for short french fries, tossed inside a bowl with olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, two large unpeeled cloves of garlic from John D. Madura Farm, and a pinch of crushed dark dried habanada pepper, than roasted in a 400º oven in my faithful, large well-seasoned Pampered Chef unglazed ceramic oven pan for about 35 minutes, or until crispy on the outside, soft on the inside, and a little chewy on the edges, garnished with micro red mustard from, once again, Two Guys from Woodbridge

• the last little bunch of red mustard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, together with the leaves of a bunch of French breakfast radishes from Eckerton Hill Farm, wilted in a little olive oil in which 2 garlic cloves from Foragers Market had been allowed to sweat, seasoned with salt and pepper and finished on the plates with a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Austrian (Burgenland) red, St. Laurent vom Kiesel, Strehn 2013, from Astor Winesthe music was Bellini’s 1831 opera, ‘Norma’, Giovanni Antonini conducting the Orchestra La Scintilla and the International Chamber Vocalists, with Sumi Jo, John Osborn, Reinaldo Macias, Liliana Nikiteanu, Michele Pertusi, and Cecilia Bartoli; until I started writing this post I didn’t know much about Wagner’s attitude toward Bellini, or to this bel canto opera specifically, other than the fact that he had conducted it, while music director of the Riga Opera House, only 6 years after its unsuccessful London premiere (he was not yet 25); I had a vague recollection of reading once that he respected Bellini, but I still was astonished to occasionally hear bits throughout the opera that sounded like what the much younger German would write years later, and most remarkably in the Introduction to Act II (more on Wagner’s respect for Bellini here).

I could try to convince the reader that the generous serving on the plate above was for the two of us, but I won’t. Instead I’ll say, it just looks big.

And here it looks even bigger.

The meal was going to fall between a day with a fish entrée and one with meat, and normally I would put a pasta together a vegetarian pasta in such a situation. Instead, remembering that I had many more eggs in the refrigerator than usual, and some sympathetic vegetables to go with them, I decided to go with the eggs, and forgo our usual Sunday morning spread the next day.

I constructed still another variation of what had been merely an idea of baked eggs I had found several years ago, when Mark Bittman’s 2007 recipe, ‘Baked Egg With Prosciutto and Tomato‘ became the starting point for a number of delicious improvisations (it’s hard to go wrong with eggs, tomatoes, and most any allium, even when there’s no cured pork around, and almost anything else that can be added is, well, ‘gravy’).

But I was pretty excited about the sorrel this time.

• four medium leeks from Phillips Farms, trimmed, sliced lengthwise, and cooked in 3 tablespoons of butter inside a large heavy antique high-sided, tin-lined copper sauté pan until they were tender, after which about a cup of baby green sorrel from Lani’s Farm, mixed with some chopped parsley from Stokes Farm (the parsley added mostly to retain a green color, as the sorrel turns a dull drab olive green when heated), was added to the pot and stirred in, the leek mixture transferred to a buttered glazed ceramic oven dish and spread evenly around the bottom surface, 8 small Americauna eggs from Millport Dairy Farm cracked on top, and 6 large  Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods, each cut into 3 slices, scattered around the eggs, a few ounces of heavy cream poured onto the surface of the eggs and the tomatoes, the dish seasoned with sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a bit of crushed dried Sicilian peperoncino from Buon Italia, and a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company, the pan set on a rack in the middle of an oven that had been heated to 400º until the eggs had set and the cream almost entirely absorbed (I think it was 25 minutes this time), served on 2 plates atop 4 thick slices of a polenta boule from She Wolf Bakery that had been toasted on a wonderful no-bread-is-ever-too-thick-for-it ‘Camp-A-Toaster’ [see this post], garnished with micro scallion from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• the wine was a California (Suisun Valley and Sonoma) rosé, Evangelos Bagias California Rosé of Pinot Noir 2017, from Naked Wines
• the music was Handel’s 1711 opera, ‘Rinaldo’, his first for London, and the first opera in Italian to be written specifically for the London stage, René Jacobs conducting the Freiburg Baroque Orchestra [note: it was performed regularly in London for 6 years, and once again in 1731, in a revised version, but there were no more performances for over 200 years; an indifference visited on most every opera of the time, suggesting that 18th-century opera audiences were once more interested in new music than they are today]

Another anniversary!

At least partly because we’re living in the mythical state of sin, we celebrate not one, but five anniversaries: our meeting, the ‘magic meal’, declarations of love, exchange of rings, and happy-ever-after cohabitation.

It’s a series that stretches from 4/27/91 to 1/6/93, and since they don’t show up chronologically within a single year (unless we find a way to make every year last slightly more than 20 months), there will always be some confusion as the dates come up. This meal marked the anniversary of the first, the night we met, but only days before we had celebrated one that had occurred a year after the one we observed last night.

Fortunately the meal turned out almost as well as the event 27 years back.

• one Yellowfin tuna steak (just under 16 ounces) off of Scott Rucky’s fishing vessel, ‘Dakota’, from Pura Vida Seafood Company, halved, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper and rubbed, tops and bottoms, with a mixture of dry Sicilian fennel seed from Buon Italia that had been crushed in a samll mortar and pestle with a little dried peperoncino Calabresi secchi, also from Buon Italia, pan-grilled above a brisk flame (for barely a minute on each side), finished on the plates with a good squeeze of the juice of an organic lemon from Whole Foods Market and some Whole Foods house Portuguese olive oil, garnished with micro scallions from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• ‘Magic Molly‘ fingerling potatoes (this time barely 7 ounces) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm, washed, scrubbed, left unpeeled, dried, sliced lengthwise, mixed inside a bowl with a little olive oil, sea salt, freshly-ground black pepper, a piece of crushed dried orange/gold habanada pepper, and 2 stems of very fresh rosemary leaves from Stokes Farm, roasted at 375º for abour 25 minutes, garnished with some beautiful micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge

• most of a large bunch of broccoli rabe (aka rapini) from Migliorelli Farm, wilted in a little olive oil inside a large antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 small sliced spring garlic stems from Windfall Farms had been heated until slightly softened, the greens seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, divided onto the plates and drizzled with more olive oil

It’s now too late in the year to find mature garlic heads from the last one from our local farmers at the Greenmarket, but fortunately fresh alternatives have already begun appearing. Last night was the first time I had ever substituted fresh for dry in preparing greens, and the result was very very tasty.

There was a small cheese course, and because it had charmed me in the main course, I decided to throw in some of the micro red mustard.

• ‘Manchester’ goat cheese from Consider Bardwell Farm
• micro red mustard from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• dried Italian figs from Buon Italia in Chelsea Market

 

• the wine throughout the meal was a Portuguese (Dão) white, Quinta Dos Roques Encruzado 2015, from Garnet Wines
• the music was the final act of Richard Wagner’s 1857-1859 music drama in 3 acts, ‘Tristan und Isolde’, Karl Böhm conducting the Bayreuth Festival Orchestra and the Bayreuth Festival Chorus in a 1966 recording, with  Wolfgang Windgassen, Christa Ludwig, Birgit Nilsson, Martti Talvela, Eberhard Wächter, Claude Heater, Erwin Wohlfahrt, Gerd Nienstedt, and Peter Schreier

 

I love fluke. Only incidentally, it happens to be one of but 2 kinds of ocean fish, other than mollusks, that I have caught myself. The second was Pacific Lincod. The fluke was caught off Long Island.

• two 9-ounce fluke fillets from American Seafood Company, washed, dried, brushed with a bit of good white wine vinegar and sprinkled with sea salt, each piece halved for convenience in cooking, dredged in a coarse local stone-ground flour, sautéed in a couple tablespoons or more of good Whole Food Market house Portuguese olive oil, turning once, until barely cooked through, 4 halved Backyard Farms Maine ‘cocktail tomatoes’ from Whole Foods Market added to the pan just before the fish was removed to 2 warm plates, the tomatoes removed and also tranferred to the plates once they had softened, after which 2 or 3 tablespoons of Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter, a couple tablespoons of Whole Foods Market organic lemon juice, and roughly an ounce of ramps (chopped bulbs and sliced leaves) from Mountain Sweet Berry Farm were added to the pan and all stirred for a minute or less before the sauce was poured over the fillets [the red bits in the picture at the top are segments of the ramp stems that retain some of their outer shell]

• one small bunch of young collard greens from Norwich Meadows Farm, stripped of most of their stems, cut very roughly, washed several times and drained, transferred to a smaller bowl very quickly, in order to retain as much of the water clinging to them as possible, braised inside a heavy antique high-sided tin-lined copper pot in which 2 Rocambole Keith’s Farm garlic cloves had been allowed to sweat in a tablespoon or a little more of Whole Foods Market Portuguese house olive oil, adding a little of the reserved water along the way as necessary, finished with salt, pepper, and a bit more olive oil
• slices of a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sourdough from Foragers Market
• the wine was a Portuguese (Dão), Pedra Cancela Malvasia Fina/Encruzado Reserva 2014, from Garnet Wines 
• the music was Bruckner’s Symphony No. 3,  Yannick Nézet-Séguin conducting the Orchestre Métropolitain

It was a something of a palate cleanser after our rich night at the opera the day before.

• seven small skate wings (14 ounces) from P.E. & D.D., the largest of them halved to even out their number,  coated all over with a local coarse polenta (‘Stone-Ground Polenta’ from Wild Hive Farm Community Grain Project) that had been seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, sautéed in olive oil and a bit of butter, for a couple of minutes or so on each side, inside a heavy enameled cast iron oven pan, then removed to 2 plates and kept warm while a little more than a tablespoons of butter was added to the pan, along with the chopped bulbs and sliced leaves of half an ounce or so of young ramps from Lucky Dog Organic Farm, stirred over a now-lowered flame, the alliums allowed to only sweat a bit before the heat was turned off altogether and another 1 1/2 tablespoons of butter added, along with the juice from half of a Whole Foods Market organic lemon, some chopped lovage from Two Guys from Woodbridge, and a bit of chopped parsley from Stokes Farm, all stirred to blend together and make a proper sauce to be divided among the ‘wings’
• slices of a Bien Cuit ‘Campagne’ traditional sourdough from Foragers Market
• one bunch of rainbow chard from Norwich Meadows Farm, wilted in a couple tablespoons of Portuguese olive oil from Whole Foods Market in which 2 small Rocambole garlic cloves from Keith’s Farm had first been heated and slightly softened, seasoned with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, finished with a little lemon juice and a drizzle of olive oil
• the wine was an Austrian (Burgenland) white, Furmint, Wenzel 2015, from Astor Wines
• the music was Hans Werner Henze, 1974 masterpiece, ‘Tristan‘, an orchestral work composed, for piano, tape and full orchestra, a homage to Wagner’s ‘Tristan und Isolde‘, performed by Homero Francesch, the Kölner Rundfunk Sinfonie Orchester, Hans Werner Henze conducting [it can be heard here in another performance]