Lots of things going on here.

We had bacon and eggs early Sunday afternoon, as we usually do. Also as we usually do, we invited a lot of things to join us. In fact there were so many things, and they all jumped onto the table so fast, I’m not sure I can give an account of each one, nor do I think I should, since no one, including myself, is ever going to repeat it.

The best I can do, and I’m doing it mostly in order to provide the credits, is to report who were the farmers, bakers, and other producers who got them to us.

And include one other picture, of a section of the Lost Bread Co. stand in the Union Square Greenmarket.

To be truthful, I have to add that a good number of these ingredients were items already prepared for or remaining from very recent earlier meals and not used.

• 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens, John Stoltzfoos’ Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket
• 3 slices of bacon from pastured pigs, John Stoltzfoos’ Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket
• Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (Koroneiki varietal) olive oil, Hania, Crete, from Whole Foods Market
• chives from Stokes Farm
• pericón (Mexican Tarragon) from Quarton Farm
• local sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood
• freshly ground black pepper from Whole Food’s store brand
• Brazil wax pepper-infused olive oil (the peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, the infusion done at home)
• sunflower sprouts from Space on Ryder Farm (formerly Betsy Ryder’s Ryder Farm)
• finely chopped red jalapeño pepper, from a friend’s garden
• one small shallot from Alex’s Tomato Farm in the Saturday Chelsea’s Down to Earth Farmers Market
• chopped upper stem section of a red spring onion from Norwich Meadows Farm
• a very light ‘Delitia’ Burro di Bufala, Caserta, Campania (total fat 12g, 83% butter fat), from Eataly
• a rich Vermont Creamery Butter (total fat 12g, 83% butter fat), from Eataly
• bits of baby celery stem and leaves from Norwich Meadows Farm
• dried wild Sicilian (Ibleo Mountains) fennel seed from Eataly Flatiron
• Homadama bread (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.
• Buck Honey Rye (rye, malted buckwheat groats, honey, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co.
• ‘Whole wheat Redeemer Bread’ (wheat, water, salt) from Lost Bread Co.

 

• the music was Wagner’s first success, the 5-act opera, ‘Rienzi, der letzte der Tribunen‘, composed between 1838 and 1840, premiered in 1842, and heard on Sunday streaming from Finland’s Yle Klassinen in a mid-70s recording with  Heinrich Hollreiser conducting the Dresden Staatskapelle, the  Leipzig Radio Chorus, and the Dresden State Opera Chorus, with amazing soloists: Peter Schreier, Siv Wennberg, René Kollo, Janis Martin, Nikolaus Hillebrand, Theo Adam, Siegfried Vogel, Günther Leib, and Ingeborg Springer

Although I hadn’t anticipated any problems earlier, once I had started to put it together, this meal turned out to be a bit of a challenge.

Without doing any research on it, I had decided to buy a vegetable (I think it’s actually a fruit) that I seen showing up in the Union Square Greenmarket for at least several seasons: Bitter melon [momordica charantia], known in India as Kerala, or elsewhere as bitter apple; bitter gourd; bitter squash; balsam-pear, or any number of other names, whose number suggests it’s more popular than most of us would imagine.

Before Sunday however I knew nothing about this gourd except that there were Chinese versions and Indian versions (on Friday I bought the shorter, more deeply green Indian one, with the much more rugged surface), and that both were very bitter. That description  showed up everywhere, and otherwise I don’t remember any discussion of taste. I read only that it was bitter, very bitter; ‘an acquired taste’, the accounts all said, each adding that it might be something that could be acquired, if you were willing to keep at it).

I love cucumber, and I’m also used to sautéing it. While aware it was unlikely this particular beautiful gnarly green fruit, which also grows along a vine, would be anything like that favorite, my casual decision to associate it with cucumis sativus made it oh-so-easy to take home.

It wasn’t like cucumber, of course.

I have to make it clear that, for my own kitchen-conservative reasons (wanting it to relate to the style of, and to be incorporated into my own Western cooking, including the rest of the ingredients and recipes used in this  particular meal), I chose to not prepare the melon in a manner even remotely related to customs in China or India, which may or may not explain why it was still so bitter when I served it, even though I followed the universal advice to soak the raw pieces in heavily salted water to reduce that attribute.

Supposedly it’s very good for you, and it appears in many forms, including extracts and capsules, that reflect the ancient Indian ayurveda tradition, but health foods and supplements are not a come-on that works for me; I’m more likely to be attracted to the rarity of something than its advertised wholesomeness.

I also had a couple of very ripe heirloom tomatoes on the windowsill, but before I had investigated the bitter melon cooking process very far it seemed to me that I had a lot of it, enough to make a second vegetable unnecessary.

I decided to use the tomatoes in a first course, but I didn’t have any form of soft cheese, which would be needed for what may currently be the most familiar way to use really good tomatoes. I did have a great bread, a very dark, complex bread, a corn and wheat bread, nutty, with a hint of sweetness, a kind that would be the rarity I mentioned above, at least in an Italian antipasto context – or in any kind of tomato first course – so I improvised a bruschetta.

Something else was unusual about the meal, although not as unusual as Indian Kerala, at least on our table. Instead of a grape wine, we enjoyed a wonderful bottle of a local dry cider! Think serious Basque dry cider.

• several heirloom tomatoes from Campo Rosso Farm, cut into 1/2-inch pieces, combined in  a medium bowl with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood, some freshly ground black pepper, one small sliced and chopped and red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm, a little While Foods Market house Portuguese olive oil, and some chopped epazote leaves from Jane’s TransGenerational Farm, spooned over several slices of wonderful dark Homadama bread (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.after their grill-marked toasted surfaces, immediately after coming off of a very hot cast iron ribbed grill pan, had been lightly rubbed with cut surfaces of a ‘Nootka rose’ garlic clove, also from TransGenerational Farm, served with more epazote sprinkled on top

The main course followed soon after, because both the meat and the vegetable cooking times were short, and I was able to prepare most of the larger and smaller ingredients ahead of time.

Also, I was very interested to see how the vegetable would work out.

• two very thick 10-ounce boneless heritage breed pork chops from Raven & Boar farm, rinsed, dried thoroughly, seasoned on both sides with sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, plus a very small amount of crushed hickory smoked Jamaican Scotch bonnet peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, seared quickly in a heavy oval enameled cast-iron pan, one small halved Mexican organic lemon from Chelsea Whole Foods Market squeezed over the top of each (after which the lemon was left in the pan between them, cut side down), the chops placed inside a 400º oven for about 15 minutes altogether (flipped halfway through, the lemon halves squeezed over them once again and again on the bottom of the pan, some finely chopped fresh habanada  chili from only a part of one pepper sprinkled on top of the pork at that time), removed from the oven and arranged on 2 plates, the few juices that remained poured over the top of each, the chops arranged on the plates accompanied by the lemon halves

• one pound of bitter melon from Gopal Farm, washed, cut into 2cm slices, the seeds and pith removed, placed inside a bowl, a generous amount of salt sprinkled on top and with enough water to just cover them, allowed to sit on the counter for about 20 minutes, removed, drained, and dried on a towel or paper toweling, placed inside a large heavy well-seasoned cast iron pan, sautéed over a medium-high flame, turning several times, sprinkled with sea salt after as they pieces had begun to carbonize, and, well into that process, one small sliced red one sliced small red onion from Norwich Meadows Farm added to the pan and the onions allowed to soften, some black pepper and a pinch of dried fenugreek from Bombay Emerald Chutney Company (purchased at the Saturday Chelsea Farmers Market) added, the mix arranged on the plates when done on top of fans of some leaves from a small head of purple Romaine lettuce from TransGenerational Farm, drizzled with both a little olive oil and a small amount of white balsamic vinegar, added part of the way into the meal, hoping it might mitigate the bitterness of the fruit (which is also why I had earlier added the lettuce, at the last moment)

So, the post-dinner report on the bitter melon? In the end it definitely remained bitter, but by the time I had finished I was thinking I may have already begun to ‘acquire the taste’ (Barry was somewhat less positive), but I’m still going to look further into the possibility of bringing down the acerbity.

• the wine was a New York (Hudson Valley) cider, Brooklyn Cider House Bone Dry cider, from the makers’ stand in the Union Square Greenmarket (it’s pretty awesome, and we’re definitely going stock up some more)
• the music was Henry Purcell’s 1692/1693 semi-opera, ‘The Fairy Queen’, performed by Sébastien D’Hérin conducting the ensemble, Les Nouveaux Caractères

But of course our Sunday lunches (which are also breakfasts) almost always include Amish farm eggs and bacon; it’s almost everything else that changes, although sometimes only slightly.

• • yesterday, in addition to 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens and 4 slices of bacon from pastured pigs, all from John Stoltzfoos’ Pennsylvania Millport Dairy Farm in the Union Square Greenmarket, there were two small ripe green and/or red-ish heirloom tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm, sliced, seasoned and heated in a bit of olive oil, sprinkled with scissored fresh dill from Quarton Farm, and the eggs fried inside the same very large well-seasoned cast iron pan in which the bacon had been slowly cooked, but only after thin slices of a Phillips Farms garlic scape had been stirred in and softened in the fat, to which first a little very rich Vermont Creamery butter had first been added, seasoned with local Long Island sea salt from P.E. & D.D. Seafood and some freshly ground black pepper, sprinkled with some finely slivered fresh habanada pepper from Camp Rosso Farm and a pinch of crushed dried smoked serrano peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, scattered with chopped leaves of flowering pericón (‘Mexican tarragon’) from Norwich Meadows Farm; the bread, which was very fresh and not toasted, was Homadama bread (wheat , corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.
  • the music was an album of 12 Suites for Harpsichord by Johann Mattheson (1681-1764), played by  Alessandro Simonetto

 

The only swordfish steaks left inside the fishers’ bucket on Friday when I arrived at his stand in the Union Square Greenmarket were a bit larger than what we normally share, so, at Paul’s suggestion, that evening I decided to cut off a smaller section, grill it with the other two, larger parts, that we had for dinner that night, but then put it away in the refrigerator, immersed in olive oil, to use in an appetizer the next day, its character to be determined then.

That’s exactly what I did, and it was really delicious. It was an incredibly simple operation, but I should have arranged it to look more simple than it did. My mind was already on the next course however, so the minimal aesthetic just didn’t happen.

• four ounces of a swordfish steak from Pura Vida Seafood that had been marinated and grilled the day, after which it had been refrigerated and submerged in olive oil overnight, brought to room temperature the next evening, removed from the oil, cut into 8 thin slices, arranged on a bed of washed purple butter lettuce from Fledging Crow Vegetables and some leaves from a radicchio variegato di Castelfranco from Campo Rosso Farm that had already prepared, dressed with a good Cretan (Chania) olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (a Koroneiki varietal) and a squeeze of organic California lemon, both from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, local P.E. & D.D. sea salt and freshly ground black pepper, sprinkled with chopped small stems and leaves from a small green stalk of celery from Norwich Meadows Farm, and also some scissored chives from Philipps Farms, the entire salad garnished with micro chervil from Two Guys from Woodbridge
• there were slices from a loaf of the excellent ‘homadama’ (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) from Lost Bread Co.
• the wine was a really excellent Spanish (Jerez) fortified wine, Gonzalez-Byass “Tio Pepe” Fino Sherry, from Foragers Wines

Having the swordfish on hand for an appetizer meant I could reduce or simplify the main course, which, because of how special the entrée turned out to be, was an excellent idea. The goat was beautiful, perfectly cooked, and very simple to carve, but above all, absolutely delicious, at least as tasty as a much more expensive rack of lamb [this perfect small rack, plenty for the 2 of us, set me back just less than $16].

• one small (13.5-ounce) rack of goat from Marie, who was managing the Union Square table of Lynnhaven Dairy Goats, dry-marinated for about 2 hours [the time could be less, if you started late, or much longer, but in any event I try to have it outside the refrigerator only for the last hour] in a mixture of rosemary leaves from Keith’s Farm, removed from their stems; 2 medium crushed fresh bay leaves from Uncle Vinny’s, possibly Columbian, from Westside Market; the zest from a small Chelsea Market lemon; a small part of one crushed dried habanada pepper; sea salt, and some freshly-ground black pepper, after which the goat was dried with paper towels and coated lightly with olive oil, the oven preheated to 425º, a heavy oval enameled cast iron pan placed inside for 10 minutes, the rack arranged inside the hot pan flesh side down and roasted for about 17 minutes this time [the instant thermometer read exactly 120º then, the first time I checked], for rare to medium rare doneness, and not at all bloody, allowed to rest for 7 minutes or so, loosely covered with foil to keep warm, the ribs then separated into 8 chops with a heavy knife and arranged on the 2 plates, finished with a squeeze of the lemon from which the zest had been removed earlier, drizzled with a bit of olive oil,

and garnished with some of the new growth at the top of a horseradish root purchased the day before from Holy Schmitts Horseradish in the Greenmarket, chopped

• more than three quarters of a pound of really gorgeous small Brussels sprouts from John D. Madura Farms, washed, trimmed, dried, tossed with olive oil, sea salt and freshly-ground black pepper, roasted in a the same 425º oven as the goat on a large unglazed Pampered Chef oven pan until they were browned and crisp on the outside, or for about 15 minutes, and finished with a small amount of decent balsamic vinegar flicked onto them with a small brush
• the wine was a Portuguese (Douro) red, Quinta do Pôpa ‘Contos da Terra’, Douro Red 2016, from Astor Wines

 

• the music throughout was Handel’s 1721 opera, ‘Floridante’, Alan Curtis conducting Il Complesso Barocco, with Roberta Invernizzi, Marijana Mijanovic, and Joyce DiDonato, among others

It was good.

Although it was a little simpler than many of these mid afternoon ‘fast breakers’, so I had at least metaphorically brought fewer things to the table. There were still a lot of containers however but fortunately I actually enjoy washing up afterward, and have never had a dishwasher, or even wanted one.

This is what the drainer looked like after this relatively simple lunch.

• on the table earlier: 4 slices of thick bacon from pastured pigs and 6 fresh eggs from pastured chickens, all from the Amish family-run Millport Dairy Farm stand in the Union Square Greenmarket, the eggs seasoned with a local Long Island sea salt (from P.E. & D.D. Seafood) and freshly ground black pepper, drizzled with a tiny amount of Brazil wax pepper-infused olive oil (the peppers from Eckerton Hill Farm, the infusion done at home), and sprinkled with red vein micro sorrel from Two Guys from Woodbridge, with a dollop of the cook’s own homemade Zhug at the side; there was a small salad of red dandelions leaves from Willow Wisp Farm seasoned with salt and pepper, and a good Cretan (Chania) olive oil, Renieris Estate ‘Divina’ (a Koroneiki varietal), from Chelsea Whole Foods Market, topped with a few differently toned cherry tomatoes from Norwich Meadows Farm that had been halved and heated in a little While Foods house Portuguese olive oil inside an antique enameled cast iron porringer and tossed with chopped thyme leaves from Quarton Farm; a rich local butter (Organic Valley ‘Cultured Pasture Butter’ from Chelsea Whole Foods, and 2 breads, both from Lost Bread Co., neither toasted, a Homadama (wheat, corn, water, maple syrup, salt, slaked lime) and a Buck Honey Rye (rye, malted buckwheat groats, honey, water, salt)
• the music was the 1871-1872 oratorio, ‘Luther in Worms’, by the choral director, critic, and composer Ludwig Meinardus, performed by Hermann Max directing Concerto Köln and the Rheinische Kantorei (neither Martin Luther nor the composer’s conservative Protestantism appeal to either of us, but the subject of the piece and the conservative romantic composition itself occupy niches in history that interest both of us; Barry came across this recording and used it to fill the niche we generally reserve for religious music first thing on Sundays, a tradition in spite of, or possibly because of, the depth of our shared disbelief